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BY1 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

PUBLICATION 

THE  PRES 

PRESENTED   BY 

rERIAN  BOARD  OF  F 

J 


John  Bunyan. 


1  -^^  hii^  li.iHlia^^'j'j*  '■'*^ 


THE 


PiLGEiNrs  Progress. 


JOHN    BUNYAN. 


M03T  CAREFULLY   COLLATED   WITH   THE   EDITION   CONTAINING 
THE  author's   last  ADDITIONS   AND   CORRECTIONS 


PHILADELPHIA  : 
PRESBYTERIAN    BOARD    OF    PUBLICATION, 

No.  1334  CHESTNUT  STREET. 


ADVERTISEMENT 

TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITION. 


BuNYAN  has  been  picturesquely  described  as  the 
<'  Prince  of  Dreamers."  He  merits  a  much  higher  eulogy. 
His  imperishable  work,  which  is  here  presented  in  a  new 
and  beautiful  garb,  exhibits  the  chastened  imagination  of 
the  poet  ;  the  discriminating  knowledge  of  the  casuist  ; 
the  acuteness  of  the  theologian  ;  and  the  sweet  and  gentle 
spirit  of  the  Christian  instructor.  He  enchains  his  readers 
by  a  species  of  fascination  which  it  is  difficult  to  analyze, 
and  which  could  result  only  from  a  rare  combination  of 
talent.  The  deeply  interested  attention  of  the  child  and 
the  philosopher,  of  the  experienced  Christian  and  the  ad- 
mirer of  fiction,  is  alike  absorbed  in  his  skilfully  drawn 
narrative  of  the  Pilgrim's  progress  from  the  city  of 
Destruction  to  his  celestial  home.  The  reader  is  at  once 
charmed  and  instructed  ;  his  imagination  is  gratified  and 
his  heart  impressed,  by  the  perusal  of  this  extraordinary 
production.  Founded  as  it  is  in  an  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  workings  of  the  human  heart  under  the  impulse 
of  natural  principles  and  the  superadded  influence  of  gra- 
cious affections,  it  found  its  place  in  the  hearts  of  men  at 

3 


4  AD  VER  TISEMENT. 

its  first  appearance,  and  its  popularity  has  steadily  increased 
in  the  lapse  of  time.  No  uninspired  volume  has  perhaps 
ever  been  demanded  with  greater  eagerness  by  all  classes 
of  readers,  or  has  been  so  astonishingly  multiplied  through 
the  press. 

The  "  Memoir  of  Banyan,"  prefixed  to  this  edition,  is 
abridged  from  the  longer  one  by  Josiah  Conder,  Esq.,  found 
in  the  larger  edition  of  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  published 
many  years  ago  by  the  Presbyterian  Board  of  Publicatioa 


Sonnet. 


VIGNETTE  FRONTISPIECE. 


Ol    FOR    ONE    BRIGHT    THOUGH    MOMENTARY   GLANCE: 
SUCH    AS   OF   OLD    IN    PATMOS   ISLE  WAS   GIVEN 
TO    HIM    WHO   SAW   THE   CLOUDS   ASUNDER    RIVEN  : 
^ND,  PASSING   ALL   THE   SPLENDOUR   OF   ROMANCE, 
IN   GLORY,  AND    IN    "pOMP   OF   CIRCUMSTANCE:" 

THE   NEW  JERUSALEM    COME   DOWN    FROM    HEAVEN  : — 
OR   THE    LEAST   MEASURE   OF   THAT  MYSTIC   LEAVEN 
WHICH    BLESSED  OLD   BUNVAN's   VISIONARY   TRANCE: 
BUT   VAIN    THE    PAINTER'S   OR   THE   POET's  SKILL, 

THAT    HEAVENLY   CITY's   GLORY    TO   DECLARE  : — 
ALL  SUCH    CAN    FURNISH    IS  A   VISION    FAIR 
AND   gorgeous:    HAVING,  AS   ITS   CENTRE   STILL, 
HIS   CROSS   WHO   DIED   ON   CALVARY'S   HOLY   HILL; 
man's  ONLY   1    TLE   TO   ADMITTANCE   THERE. 

BERNARD   BARTON. 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN    BUNYAN. 


OHN  BUNYAN  was  born  in  the  village  of  El- 
stow,  near  Bedford,  in  the  year  1628.  His  de- 
scent, to  use  his  own  words,  was  "  of  a  low  and 
inconsiderable  generation,"  his  "father's  house  being  of 
that  rank  that  is  meanest  and  most  despised  of  all  the 
families  in  the  land."  The  craft  to  which  he  was  born  and 
bred,  like  his  father  before  him,  was  that  of  a  brazier  or 
tinker  ;  and  he  is  said  to  have  worked  as  a  journeyman  at 
Bedford.  Mean  and  inconsiderable  as  were  the  circum- 
stances of  his  parents,  they  were  able  to  put  their  son  to 
school,  where  he  learned  both  to  read  and  write  "accord- 
ing to  the  rate  of  other  poor  men's  children  ;"  but  he  con- 
fesses that  he  soon  lost,  almost  utterly,  what  little  he  had 
acquired.  Thrown  among  vile  companions,  he  was  early 
initiated  into  profaneness,  lying  and  all  sorts  of  boyish 
vice  and  ungodliness  ;  and  the  only  indication  of  his  hav- 
ing a  capacity  above  the  village  rabble  was  afforded  by  his 
being  a  ringleader  of  all  the  youth  that  kept  liim  company, 
in  their  wickedness.  Yet,  even  at  nine  or  ten  years  old, 
in  the  midst  of  his  many  sports  and  childish  vanities,  and 
surrounded  by  his  vain  companions,  he  was  often  seized 
with  deep  compunction  ;  and  in  his   sleep,  fearful  visions, 

7 


8  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN. 

corresponding  to  his  waking  terrors,  would  alarm  his  con- 
science. "  I  was  often,"  he  says,  "  much  cast  down  and 
afflicted  therewith,  yet  could  I  not  let  go  my  sins  ;  yea,  1 
was  also  then  so  overcome  with  despair  of  life  and  heaven 
that  I  should  often  wish,  either  that  there  had  been  no 
hell,  or  that  I  had  been  a  devil,  supposing  they  were  only 
tormentors  ;  that,  if  it  must  needs  be  that  I  went  thither, 
I  might  be  rather  a  tormentor  than  be  tormented  myself." 
After  a  time  these  terrible  dreams  left  him,  and  his  appre- 
hensions of  infernal  punishment  wore  off.  He  became 
"  void  of  all  good  consideration  ;"  "  heaven  and  hell  were 
both  out  of  mind  ;"  and  "had  not  a  miracle  of  precious 
grace  prevented,"  he  says,  "  he  had  not  only  perished  by 
the  stroke  pf  eternal  justice,  bu't  had  also  laid  himself  open 
even  to  the  stroke  of  those  laws- which  bring  some  to  dis- 
grace and  open  shame  before  the  world."  It  may  be  ir.- 
ferred,  however,  from  this  ingenuous  confession,  that  he 
was  nevertheless  restrained  from  the  commission  of  any 
delinquency  cognizable  by  the  magistrate.  He  was  wild, 
boisterous,  reckless,  disorderly  ;  passionately  fond  of  vil- 
lage-sports, such  as  bell-ringing,  dancing,  "the  game  of  cat," 
and  similar  amusements  ;  a  Sabbath-breaker,  a  terrible 
swearer  and  thoroughly  ungodly.  But  this  appears  to  have 
been  the  extent  of  his  youthful  wickedness.  He  was  no 
drunkard,  nor  was  he,  in  the  grossest  acceptation,  licen- 
tious. 

Bunyan  was  only  seventeen  when  he  entered  into  the 
Parliament's  army  ;  and  in  1645  he  was  drawn  out,  with 
others,  to  go  to  the  siege  of  Leicester;  but  when  he  was 
just  ready  to  set  off  one  of  the  company  expressed  a  de- 
sire to  go  in  his  stead,  and,  Bunyan  having  consented,  the 
volunteei  took  his  place,  went  to  the  siege,  and  was  shot  as 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUNTAN.  9 

he  stooJ  sentinel.  This  remarkable  interposition  of  Divine 
Providence,  as  well  as  some  other  narrow  escapes  from 
death,  Bunyan  records  with  devout  gratitude  ;  but  at  the 
time  they  appear  to  have  made  a  slight  or  transient  im- 
pression upon  his  conscience.  He  could  not  have  been 
long  a  soldier,  yet  it  is  probable  that  we  are  indebted  to 
his  having  served  in  the  civil  wars  for  the  skilful  manage- 
ment of  his  military  allegory. 

Not  long  after  the  occurrence  above  mentioned,  and 
when,  consequently,  he  must  have  been  very  young  (Dr. 
Southey  thinks,  before  he  was  nineteen),  Bunyan  married  ; 
and  "  my  mercy  was,"  he  says,  "  to  light  upon  a  wife  whose 
father  was  counted  godly."  They  were  both  so  poor  as 
not  to  have  so  much  household  stuff  as  a  dish  or  a  spoon 
between  them  ;  but  she  brought  him,  for  her  portion,  two 
books  which  her  father  had  bequeathed  to  her  when  he  died — 
one  entitled,  "The  Plain  Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven;"  the 
other,  "The  Practice  of  Piety."  In  these  two  books 
Bunyan  would  sometimes  read  with  his  wife  ;  and  though 
they  did  not  reach  his  heart  so  as  to  waken  him  to  a  sense 
of  his  real  condition,  yet  they  produced  some  desires  and 
endeavors  after  reformation.  These  were  fostered,  too,  by 
the  frequent  references  made  by  his  wife  to  the  strict  and 
holy  life  of  her  father.  Bunyan  now  "fell  in  very  eagerly 
with  the  rehgion  of  the  times  ;  went  to  church  twice  on  the 
Sunday,  and  said  and  sung  with  the  foremost  ;"  and  was 
withal,  according  to  his  own  account,  "so  overrun  with  tlie 
spirit  of  superstition"  that  he  adored  with  great  devotion 
all  things  belonging  to  the  church — "the  high-place,  priest, 
clerk,  vestment,"  and  everything  relating  to  the  service. 
Flattered  by  commendations,  and  proud  of  his  imagined 
godliness,   he    conclude^!    that    the   Almighty    "could    not 


lO  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUNTAN. 

choose  but  be  now  pleased  with  him.  Yea,"  he  says,  "to 
relate  it  in  mine  own  way,  I  thought  no  man  in  England 
could  please  God  better  than  I." 

He  was  wakened  from  this  self-righteous  delusion  by 
accidentally  overhearing  the  discourse  of  three  or  four  poor 
women,  who  were  sitting  at  a  door  in  the  sun,  in  one  of 
the  streets  of  Bedford,  "talking  about  the  things  of  God." 
Bunyan's  attention  was  arrested  by  language  which  was 
altogether  new  to  him,  and  which  he  heard,  but  understood 
not.  What  especially  struck  him  was,  that  they  conversed 
about  the  matters  of  religion  "  as  if  joy  did  make  them 
speak,"  and  "  as  if  they  had  found  a  new  world."  .  .  . 
"  At  this,"  he  says,  "  I  felt  my  own  heart  begin  to  shake, 
and  mistrust  my  condition  to  be  naught."  When  he  left 
them  to  go  about  his  employment,  their  talk  and  discourse 
went  with  him,  while  his  heart  tarried  behind;  for,  he  says, 
"  I  was  greatly  affected  with  their  words,  both  because  by 
them  I  was  convinced  that  I  wanted  the  true  tokens  of  a 
truly  godly  man,  and  also  because  by  them  I  was  convinced 
of  the  happy  and  blessed  condition  of  him  that  was  such  a 
one." 

These  poor  women  were  members  of  a  small  Baptist 
congregation  at  Bedford,  who  had  for  their  pastor  a  man 
whose  religious  history  is  not  less  remarkable  than  that  of 
Bunyan  himself.  Formerly  a  major  in  the  king's  ainny, 
and  having  narrowly  escaped  execution  as  a  rebel,  John 
Gifford  had  come  a  stranger  to  Bedford,  where  he  practiced 
physic  ;  leading,  at  the  same  time,  the  genuine  life  of  a 
cavalier.  Profligate  and  reckless,  a  drunkard,  a  gambler 
and  abominably  profane,  he  entertained  the  most  savage 
hatred  of  all  Puritans.  Yet  was  this  man,  when  in  a  state 
of  desperation  oc:isio-ied  by  losses  from  gambling,  "startled 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN,  H 

into  a  sense  of  liis  real  condition"  by  meeting  with  one  of 
the  works  of  Robert  Bolton  ;  the  perusal  of  which,  after  a 
mental  conflict  of  some  weeks,  wrought  a  cure  of  his  dis- 
eased mind  and  heart ;  and,  joining  himself  to  the  company 
of  those  whom  he  had  formerly  most  despised,  he  became 
at  length  their  chosen  pastor.  From  the  members  of  this 
little  flock,  Bunyan  received  the  first  elements  of  evangelical 
instruction  ;  and  the  more  he  went  among  these  poor  peo- 
ple, to  whom  he  had  been  thus  casually  introduced,  the 
more  he  questioned  his  own  condition,  and  the  more  his 
heart  was  softened  "under  the  conviction  of  what,  by  Scrip- 
ture, they  asserted."  His  mind  now  became  earnestly 
fixed  upon  eternity,  and  almost  absorbed  with  things  re- 
lating to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  still  his  knowledge 
was  that  of  infancy.  Of  this  he  was  now  humbly  conscious, 
and  a  wise  distrust  of  himself  drove  him  to  his  knees. 
About  this  time  he  met  with  some  publications  of  the 
Ranters — a  sect  whose  tenets  would  appear,  from  Baxter's 
account,  to  have  been  a  compound  of  the  Quaker  mysticism 
and  the  grossest  practical  Antinomianism.  The  works 
alluded  to  were  "  highly  in  esteem"  among  a  certain  class  ; 
and  they  were,  probably,  at  once  specious  and  mystical,  for 
Bunyan  was  not  able  to  understand  them  sufficiently  to 
form  any  judgment  about  them. 

Bunyan's  preservation  from  these  seducing  and  fatal  er- 
rors was  the  more  remarkable  as  his  most  intimate  relig- 
ious companion,  the  poor  man  whose  "  pleasant  talk"  of 
the  Scriptures  first  led  him  to  take  to  reading  the  Bible, 
about  this  time  turned  "a  most  devilish  Ranter  ;"  in  fact, 
from  the  account  given  of  him,  he  must  have  become  both 
atheist  and  libertine.  Shocked  at  his  abominable  pnnci- 
ples,  Bunyan  a.   once  broke  oflf  all  intercourse  with  bim. 


12  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN. 

But  he  was  also  thrown  into  the  company  of  several  others, 
who,  though  formerly  strict  in  religion,  were  also  drawn 
away  by  these  Ranters,  and  who  endeavoured  to  instil  their 
fanatical  tenets  into  the  as  yet  ill-furnished  mind  of  our  poor 
novice.  Although  he  escaped  the  snare,  he  was,  for  a  long 
time,  greatly  harassed  with  the  anxious  doubts,  the  scrip- 
tural problems  and  the  practical  difficulties  which  beset  the 
path  of  religious  inquiry  along  which  he  was  groping  his 
solitary  way. 

He  was  allowed,  for  a  while,  to  wrestle  alone  and  in  the 
dark,  that  he  might  come  forth  from  the  conflict  the  stronger 
and  better  man.  In  the  language  of  an  able  critic  already 
referred  to,  "the  Spirit  of  God  was  his  teacher;  the  very 
discipline  of  his  intellect  was  a  spiritual  discipline ;  the 
conflicts  that  his  soul  sustained  with  the  powers  of  darkness 
were  the  sources  of  his  intellectual  strength."  During  this 
severe  probation  he  was,  to  use  his  own  expressive  lan- 
guage, "  led  from  truth  to  truth  by  God  ;  for  never  did  any 
one  owe  less  to  human  teaching."  What  other  men  learn 
from  books  he,  with  the  aid  only  of  his  Bible,  spelt  out  and 
put  together  by  the  light  from  heaven  that  irradiated  his 
darkness.  He  was  educated  by  this  severe  process  of 
thought  ;  and  the  coarse,  boisterous,  ignorant,  profane 
rustic  became  transformed  like  his  own  pilgrim,  who,  after 
emerging  from  the  Slough  of  Despond,  lost  his  burden  and 
his  rags  together  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross. 

He  was  beginning  to  emerge  from  these  "  temptations," 
when  a  translation  of  Luther's  Commentary  on  the  Epistle 
to  the  Galatians  fell  into  his  hands — an  old  copy,  so  tattered 
that  it  was  ready  to  fall  to  pieces  if  he  did  but  turn  it  over. 
He  had  not  read  far  before  he  found  his  own  condition  "so 
largely  and   profoundly  'lai;  died,"  and   his   own   experience 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUNYAN.  '3 

so  faithfully  mirrored  in  its  pages,  that  it  seemed  as  i  the 
book  had  been  "  written  out  of  his  own  heart."  Such  a 
book  he  had  longed  to  meet  with  ;  and  it  had  for  the  time 
the  happiest  effect  upon  his  mind.  In  writing  his  Narrative 
long  afterward,  he  declares  his  preference  of  this  work  of 
Martin  Luther's  above  all  others  that  he  had  ever  seen, 
the  Bible  alone  excepted,  as  "  most  fitted  for  a  wounded 
conscience."' 

The  peaceful  assurance  and  serene  composure  to  which 
Bunyan  had  now  attained  were  not  of  long  continuance  ;  and 
the  state  of  mind  into  which  he  relapsed  is  characterized 
by  Dr.  Southey,  not  without  some  reason,  as  "  the  strangest 
part  of  his   history."     « An  almost  unimaginable  tempta- 
tion came  upon  him,  which,"  remarks  the  learned  biogra- 
pher, "he  might  well  call  more  grievous  and  dreadful  than 
any  with  which   he  had  before  been  afflicted  ;"  it  was  "  to 
sell  and  part  with   Christ— to  exchange  him  for  the  things 
of  this   life— for  anything."      For  the   space  of  a  year  he 
was  haunted  by  this  strange  and  hateful  suggestion ;  and 
so  continually  that  he  was  not  rid  of  it  one  day  in  a  month, 
nor  sometimes  one  hour  in  many  succeeding  days,  unless 
in  his  sleep.     Such   is  Bunyan's  own  account,  who  attrib- 
utes the  suggestion  to  the  immediate  agency  of  the  tempter, 
and  he  describes  the  series  of  assaults  to  which  he  believed 
himself  to  be  exposed   from    the  enemy  of  souls,  with  a 
vividness  of  language  which  reminds  us  of  his  description 
of  Christian's  allegorical  combat  with  Apollyon. 

Bunyan  was  admitted  a  member  of  the  Baptist  church  at 
Bedford  in  the  year  1653,  when  he  was  only  twenty-five 
years  of  age.  Mr.  Gifford,  the  pastor,  died  in  1655.  It 
would  appe'Lr  that,  prior  to  his  decease,  Bunyan  had  been 
prevailed  upon,  once  or  twice,  to  address  a  few  words  of 


14  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  IAN. 

exhortation  to  the  members  of  the  society  at  their  private 
assemblies.  After  this  he  was  induced,  occasionally,  to 
accompany  some  of  them  that  went  into  the  adjacent  vil- 
lages to  teach  ;  "  where,"  he  says,  "  though  as  yet  I  did 
not,  nor  durst  not,  make  use  of  my  gift  in  an  open  way, 
yet  more  privately  still,  as  I  came  amongst  the  good 
people  in  those  places,  I  did  sometimes  speak  a  word  of 
admonition  unto  them  also.  At  last,  being  still  desired  by 
the  church,  after  some  solemn  prayer  with  fasting,  I  was 
more  particularly  called  forth  and  appointed  to  a  more 
ordinary  and  public  preaching  of  the  word,  not  only  to  and 
amongst  them  that  believed,  but  also  to  offer  the  gospel  to 
those  who  had  not  yet  received  the  faith  thereof."  Bunyan 
cannot  be  charged  with  having  thrust  himself  into  noto- 
riety, nor  with  having  rashly  assumed  the  function  of  a 
public  teacher.  He  entered  upon  the  probationary  exercise 
of  his  "gift  in  a  public  way"  with  diffidence  and  fear;  and 
only  by  degrees  acquired  that  consciousness  of  his  qualifi- 
cations which  led  him  to  believe  that  he  was  called  to  the 
work. 

But  his  labors  were  viewed  with  a  jealous  eye,  and 
awakened  opposition.  To  quote  his  own  language:  "When 
I  first  went  to  preach  the  word  abroad,  the  doctors  and 
priests  of  the  country  did  open  wide  against  me  ;  but  I 
was  persuaded  of  this,  not  to  render  railing  for  railing  ;  but 
to  see  how  many  of  their  carnal  professors  I  could  convince 
of  their  miserable  state  by  the  law,  and  of  the  want  and 
worth  of  Christ ;  for,  thought  I,  This  shall  answer  for  me 
in  time  to  come,  when  they  shall  be  for  my  hire  before  their 
facer 

His  "great  desire  in  fulfilling  his  ministry,"  he  tells  us, 
«  was  to  get  into  the  darkest  places  of  the  country,"  and  to 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN.  15 

preach  the  gospel  where  Christ  was  not  named.  He  "never 
cared  to  meddle  with  things  controverted."  "  It  pleased 
me  much,"  he  says,  "to  contend  with  great  earnestness  for 
the  word  of  faith  and  the  remission  of  sins  by  tlie  death 
and  sufferings  of  Jesus  ;  but  as  to  other  things,  I  would 
let  them  alone,  because  I  saw  they  engendered  strife." 
This  wise  and  modest  course  could  not,  however,  screen 
him  either  from  being  regarded  as  an  intruder  by  the  intol- 
erant, or  from  being  grossly  calumniated  by  the  ignorant 
and  malicious,  who  sought,  by  aspersing  his  moral  character, 
to  cause  his  ministry  to  be  abandoned.  It  was  rumored, 
that  he  was  "a  witch,  a  Jesuit,  a  highwayman"  and  a 
libertine.  These  "lies  and  slanders,"  says  Bunyan,  "I 
bind  to  me  as  an  ornament ;  it  belongs  to  my  Christian 
profession  to  be  vilified,  slandered,  reproached  and  reviled ; 
and  since  all  this  is  nothing  else,  as  my  God  and  my  con- 
science do  bear  me  witness,  I  rejoice  in  reproaches  for 
Christ's  sake." 

But  he  was  destined  to  have  his  constancy  and  fortitude 
put  to  a  severer  test :  "bonds  and  imprisonment  awaited 
him."  He  had  "for  five  or  six  years,  without  any  inter- 
ruption, freely  preached  the  gospel,"  when,  in  November, 
1660,  he  was  taken  up  by  a  warrant  from  a  justice  named 
VV'ingate,  at  a  place  called  Samsell  in  Bedfordshire,  at 
which  he  had  been  invited  to  preach  ;  the  justice  having 
resolved,  as  he  said,  to  "break  the  neck  of  such  meetings." 
The  mittimus  ran  to  this  effect :  "  That  he  went  about  to 
several  conventicles  in  the  county,  to  the  great  disparage- 
ment of  the  government  of  the  Church  of  England,''  etc. 
Such  was  one  of  the  first  fruits  of  the  Restoration  !  Dr. 
Southey,  willing  to  palliate  the  conduct  of  his  persecutors, 
insinuates,  that  "  he  was  known  to  be  hostile  to  the  restored 


1 6  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUNYAN. 

Church,  and  that  probably  it  might  be  remembered  that  he 
had  served  in  the  Parliament's  army."  Of  the  former  there 
is  no  evidence  ;  and  the  latter  is  a  gratuitous  conjecture, 
which,  if  admitted,  would  only  give  a  more  despicably  vin- 
dictive character  to  the  proceedings.  The  fact  appears  to 
be,  that  his  old  enemies  took  advantage  of  the  change  in 
the  government  to  execute  their  long-cherished  purpose 
in  putting  a  stop  to  his  preaching ;  and  that,  had  the  state 
of  the  law  admitted  of  it,  he  would  have  met  with  the  same 
treatment  under  Cromwell,  from  the  same  parties,  that  he 
did  under  Charles.  One  of  the  party  concerned  in  these 
proceedings,  a  Dr.  Lindale,  is  described  by  Bunyan  as  "an 
old  enemy  to  the  truth,"  who,  on  hearing  of  the  tinker's 
apprehension,  came  in,  and  fell  to  taunting  of  him  "  with 
many  reviling  terms."  Bunyan,  however,  was  a  match  for 
his  accusers,  as  well  in  ready  wit  as  in  scriptural  argument. 
And  when  this  Dr.  Lindale,  alluding  to  his  calling,  said, 
that  "he  remembered  reading  of  one  Alexander,  a  copper- 
smith, who  did  much  oppose  and  disturb  the  apostles," 
Bunyan  replied  that  "  he  also  had  read  of  many  priests  and 
Pharisees  that  had  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  "  Ay,"  rejoined  Lindale,  "  and  you  are 
one  of  those  scribes  and  Pharisees  ;  for  you,  with  a  pre- 
tence, make  long  prayers,  to  devour  widows'  houses."  He 
received  for  answer  that  if  he  (Dr.  L.)  had  got  no  more  by 
preaching  and  praying  than  Bunyan  had,  he  would  not  be 
so  rich  as  he  was.  Bunyan  had  notice  of  the  intention  to 
arrest  him,  and  might  have  eluded  the  writ ;  and  after 
being  taken  before  the  magistrate,  he  might  have  obtained 
his  discharge  if  he  would  have  promised  to  leave  off 
preaching  and  keep  to  his  calling.  But  his  conscience 
would  not  allow  him  to  make  any  such  engagement.     He 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN,  1 7 

was  accordingly  committed  to  jail.  After  he  had  lain  there 
five  or  six  days,  some  of  his  friends  offered  bail  for  his  ap- 
pearance at  the  sessions  ;  but  the  magistrate  to  whom  they 
applied  refused  to  take  it. 

Some  seven  weeks  after  his  apprehension,  the  quarter 
sessions  were  held  at  Bedford,  and  Bunyan  was  brought  up 
for  examination  before  the  justices.  The  bill  of  indictment 
preferred  against  him  was  under  the  act  of  the  35th  Eliza- 
beth, and  ran  to  this  effect:  "That  John  Bunyan,  of  the 
town  of  Bedford,  labourer,  being  a  person  of  such  and  such 
conditions,  hath  devilishly  and  perniciously  abstained  from 
coming  to  church  to  hear  divine  service,  and  is  a  common 
upholder  of  several  unlawful  meetings  and  conventicles,  to 
the  great  disturbance  and  distraction  of  the  good  subjects 
of  this  kingdom,  contrary  to  the  laws  of  our  sovereign  lord 
the  king,"  and  so  forth.  Upon  this  being  read,  he  was 
asked  by  the  justices  what  he  had  to  say  to  it.  Not  aware 
that  he  had  been  indicted,  Bunyan  readily  admitted  that  he 
did  not  attend  the  parish  church,  and  that  he  did  attend 
private  meetings  at  which  he  preached  :  he  also  entered 
into  a  defence  of  his  conduct  upon  scriptural  grounds,  by 
which  he  only  drew  down  upon  himself  the  coarse  invec- 
tives of  his  judges.  "  Who  is  your  God,  Beelzebub.^"  said 
one  of  the  justices  ;  and  they  repeatedly  said  that  he  was 
possessed  of  the  devil.  At  the  close  of  this  memorable 
examination,  his  answers  being  taken  down  as  a  confession 
•)f  guilt,  without  any  other  trial,  without  the  verdict  of  a 
'ury,  he  was  sentenced  in  the  following  terms:  "You  must 
^e  had  back  again  to  prison,  and  there  lie  for  three  months 
following  ;  and  at  the  three  months'  end,  if  you  do  not  sub- 
mit to  go  to  church  to  hear  divine  service,  and  leave  your 
preaching,  you  must  be  banished  the  realm  ;  and  if  you  be 
2 


1 8  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUNYAN. 

found  to  come  over  again  without  special  license  from  the 
king,  you  must  be  stretched  by  the  neck  for  it,  I  tell  you 
plainly,"  said  the  judge  :  and  so  he  bade  the  jailer  remove 
his  prisoner.  Bunyan  resolutely  answered,  that  if  he  were 
out  of  prison  to-day,  he  would  preach  the  gospel  again  to- 
morrow, by  the  help  of  God.  When  reminded  that  the 
Scripture  enjoined  obedience  to  the  powers  that  be,  his 
answer  was.:  "That  Paul  did  own  the  powers  that  were 
in  his  day  to  be  of  God  ;  and  yet  he  was  often  in  prison 
under  them,  for  all  that;  and  also,  though  Jesus  Christ 
told  Pilate  that  he  had  no  power  against  him  but  of  God, 
yet  he  died  under  the  same  Pilate.  And  yet"  (he  added), 
"  I  hope  you  will  not  say  that  either  Paul  or  Christ  were 
such  as  did  deny  magistracy,  and  so  sinned  against  God  in 
slighting  the  ordinance.  Sir,  the  law  hath  provided  two 
ways  of  obeying :  the  one,  to  do  that  which  I  in  my  con- 
science do  believe  I  am  bound  to  do  actively  ;  and  where 
I  cannot  obey  actively,  there  I  am  willing  to  lie  down,  and 
to  suffer  what  they  shall  do  unto  me." 

On  the  king's  coronation,  in  April,  i66r,  a  general  par- 
don was  proclaimed  ;  and  thousands  who  had  been  com- 
mitted to  prison  for  nonconformity  and  other  offences 
were  set  at  liberty.  "In  which  privilege,"  says  Bunyan, 
"  I  should  also  have  had  my  share,  but  they  took  me  for  a 
convicted  person  ;  and,  therefore,  unless  I  sued  out  a  par- 
don, as  they  called  it,  I  could  have  no  benefit  thereby." 
Bunyan,  therefore,  was  still  detained ;  and  at  the  next 
assizes,  in  August,  1661,  that  he  might  leave  no  lawful 
means  of  escape  unattempted,  he  did,  by  his  wife,  present 
a  petition  to  the  judges,  three  times,  tliat  he  might  be 
heard,  and  his  case  taken  into  consideration.  Sir  Matthew 
Hale  was  one  of  these  judges  ;  and  it  appears  froui  Mrs. 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BU^y'TAN.  1 9 

Bunyan's  testimony,  as  preserved  in  the  Narrative,  that, 
on  receiving  the  petition,  he  expressed  a  willingness  to  do 
for  her  the  best  he  could,  but  feared  that  nothing  could  be 
done  ;  and  on  being  assured  by  one  of  the  justices  who 
had  committed  Bunyan  that  he  was  a  hot-spirited  fellow, 
he  waived  the  matter  and  declined  interfering.  Encour- 
aged, however,  by  the  high  sheriff  to  make  another  effort 
before  the  judges  left  the  town,  Elizabeth  Bunyan,  who 
seems  to  have  imbibed  a  portion  of  her  husband's  spirit, 
again  made  her  way,  "with  a  bashed  face  and  a  trembling 
heart,"  into  the  judges'  chamber.  Addressing  herself  to 
Judge  Hale,  she  pleaded  the  unlawfulness  of  his  conviction  ; 
urging  that  she  had  been  told  in  London  by  a  nobleman,  to 
whom  she  had  delivered  a  petition  to  the  House  of  Lords 
on  her  husband's  behalf,  that  his  releasement  was  committed 
to  the  judges  at  the  next  assizes.  "  And  now,"  she  said, 
"  I  am  come  to  you  to  see  if  anything  may  be  done  in  this 
business,  and  you  give  neither  releasement  nor  relief" 
"  My  lord,"  said  Justice  Chester,  "  he  is  a  pestilent  fellow  ; 
there  is  not  such  a  fellow  in  the  country  again."  "Will 
your  husband  leave  preaching?"  said  Judge  Twisdon  :  "if 
he  will  do  so,  then  send  for  him."  "  My  lord,"  replied 
Elizabeth  Bunyan,  "he  dares  not  leave  preaching,  as  long 
as  he  can  speak."  "  See  here  !"  exclaimed  the  last-men- 
tioned judge,  "  what  should  we  talk  any  more  about  such  a 
fellow  ?  Must  he  do  what  he  lists  ?  He  is  a  breaker  of 
the  peace."  "  He  desires  to  live  peaceably,  my  lord," 
rejoined  Mrs.  Bunyan,  "and  to  follow  his  calling,  that  his 
family  may  be  maintained.  Moreover,"  she  added,  "  1 
have  four  small  children  that  cannot  help  themselves,  one 
of  which  is  blind  ;  and  we  have  nothing  to  live  upon  but 
the  charity  of  good  people."     "  Hast  thou  four  children  ?" 


20  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN. 

said  Judge  Hale  :  "  thou  art  but  a  young  woman  to  have 
four  children."  "  My  lord,"  said  she,  "  I  am  but  mother- 
in-law  to  them,  having  not  been  married  to  him  yet  two 
full  years."  She  proceeded  to  add  that  she  was  near  her 
confinement  when  her  husband  was  apprehended,  and  that 
the  shock  brought  on  premature  labour  and  the  child  died. 
Upon  hearing  which.  Judge  Hale,  looking  very  seriously, 
exclaimed,  "Alas!  poor  woman."  Judge  Twisdon  brutally 
remarked  that  she  made  poverty  a  cloak,  and  that  Bunyan 
was  maintained  better  by  running  up  and  down  preaching 
than  by  following  his  calling.  "What  is  his  calling?" 
asked  Judge  Hale.  "A  tinker,  my  lord,"  said  a  bystander. 
"Yes,"  rejoined  Elizabeth  Bunyan,  "and  because  he  is  a 
tinker  and  a  poor  man,  therefore  he  is  despised,  and  cannot 
have  justice."  There  was  truth  in  this  blunt  appeal,  and 
Hale  felt  its  force.  "  I  tell  thee,  woman,"  he  very  mildly 
replied,  "  seeing  it  is  so,  that  they  have  taken  what  thy 
husband  spake  for  a  conviction,  thou  must  apply  thyself  to 
the  king,  or  sue  out  his  pardon,  or  get  a  writ  of  error." 
Justice  Chester,  on  hearing  the  upright  judge  give  her  this 
counsel,  could  not  conceal  his  vexation  ;  exclaiming,  "  My 
lord,  he  will  preach,  and  do  what  he  lists."  "  He  preach- 
eth  nothing  but  the  word  of  God,"  said  his  wife.  "  He 
preach  the  word  of  God  !"  said  Twisdon  in  a  rage  ;  "  he 
runneth  up  and  down,  and  doth  harm."  "No,  my  lord," 
said  she,  "it  is  not  so:  God  hath  owned  him,  and  done 
much  good  by  him."  "God!"  said  Twisdon,  "his  doctrine 
is  the  doctrine  of  the  devil."  "  My  lord,"  once  more 
replied  this  meek,  yet  spirited  woman,  "when  the  righteous 
Judge  shall  appear,  it  will  be  known  that  his  doctrine  is  not 
the  doctrine  of  the  devil."  There  was  no  answering  this  ; 
and  Twisdon,  turning  to  Hale,  begged  him  not  to  mind  her, 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN:  21 

but  to  send  her  away.  The  judge,  evidently  moved,  said 
again  to  Mrs.  Bunyan,  in  a  tone  of  kindness:  "I  am  sorry, 
woman,  that  I  can  do  thee  no  good.  Thou  must  do  one 
of  those  three  things  aforesaid — namely,  either  to  apply  tliv- 
self  to  the  king,  or  sue  out  his  pardon,  or  get  a  writ  of 
error  ;   but  a  writ  of  error  will  be  the  cheapest." 

Thus  terminated  this  extraordinary  scene.  Elizabeth 
Bunyan  left  the  court  in  tears  ;  "  not  so  much,"  she  de- 
clares, "  because  they  were  so  hard-hearted  against  her  and 
her  husband,  as  from  the  thought  what  a  sad  account  such 
poor  creatures  will  have  to  give  at  the  coming  of  the  Lord." 
How  could  she  suppose  that  one  of  those  judges  was  a  man 
of  saintly  piety  and  integrity !  And  how  h'ttle  did  that  judge 
suspect  that  the  prisoner  whose  cause  was  thus  pathetically 
pleaded  was  destined  by  his  writings  to  win  to  himself  an 
everlasting  name  as  the  guide  of  Christian  pilgrims  to  the 
heavenly  city !  At  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  Hale  and 
Bunyan  will  not  be  divided. 

Bunyan  tells  us  himself  that,  on  obtaining  liberty  from 
the  jailer  (who  appears  to  have  confided  in  him  so  far  as 
to  allow  him  to  go  at  large  upon  his  word),  he  followed  his 
wonted  course  of  preaching,  taking  all  occasions  put  into 
his  hand  to  visit  those  who  had  attended  upon  his  ministry ; 
"exhorting  them  to  be  steadfast  in  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  to  take  heed  that  they  touched  not  the  Common  Prayer, 
etc.,  but  to  mind  the  word  of  God,  which  giveth  direction 
to  Christians  in  every  point,  being  able  to  make  the  man 
of  God  perfect  in  all  things,  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thoroughly  to  furnish  him  unto  all  good  works."  The 
indulgence  at  first  allowed  him  enabled  him  to  be  present 
at  private  meetings  of  the  congregation  at  Bedford  in  June 
and  Ju'y,  1661    his  name  being  found  in  the  minutes  of  the 


22  MEMOIR    OF   JOHN  BUN Y AN. 

church-book  ;  and  once  the  jailer  permitted  him  to  take  a 
journey  to  London.  Unfortunately,  Bunyan's  enemies 
heard  of  it,  and  his  friendly  jailer,  being  threatened  with 
the  loss  of  his  ofifice,  was  compelled  to  keep  his  prisoner 
more  close  ;  so  that,  says  Bunyan,  "  I  must  not  now  look 
out  of  the  door."  He  expected  to  be  called  to  account  at 
the  ensuing  assizes,  in  November,  1661  ;  but  he  was  passed 
over.  In  January  following  the  assizes  were  again  held  ; 
and  being  anxious  to  come  before  the  judges,  he  prevailed 
upon  the  jailer  to  put  down  his  name  in  the  calendar;  but 
his  enemies  prevented  his  being  called  to  appear.  Why  no 
steps  were  taken  in  pursuance  of  Judge  Hale's  advice  does 
not  appear  from  the  Narrative  ;  and  it  has  been  surmised 
that  the  means  for  defraying  the  legal  expenses  could  not 
be  raised.  It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  object  of 
his  visit  to  London  was  connected  with  some  effort  to  obtain 
the  reversal  of  his  sentence,  as  there  would  seem  to  have 
been  otherwise  no  adequate  motive  for  the  risk  he  incurred; 
but  the  Narrative  contains  no  intimation  of  the  kind.  He 
now  appears  to  have  resigned  himself  to  his  fate.  From 
there  being  no  mention  of  his  name  at  the  church-meetings 
of  the  Bedford  congregation  from  July,  1661,  to  August, 
1668,  it  is  inferred  that,  during  these  seven  years,  he  was 
kept  a  close  prisoner.  As  there  was  an  end  put  to  his 
working  at  his  craft,  he  learned  to  make  tagged  laces,  and 
by  this  means  contributed  to  support  his  family. 

Bunyan  thus  speaks  of  his  own  imprisonment :  «'  I  was 
had  home  to  prison,  and  there  have  lain  now  complete 
twelve  years,  waiting  to  see  what  God  would  suffer  these 
men  to  do  with  me.  In  which  condition  I  have  continued 
with  much  content,  through  grace,  but  have  met  with  many 
turnings  and  goings  upon  my  heart ;"   the  result  of  which, 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN.  23 

he  adds,  had  l^een  '-mucli  conviction,  instruction,  and  un- 
derstanding." During  the  last  four  years  of  his  imprison- 
ment— that  is,  from  1669  to  1672,  inclusive — he  enjoyed  a 
considerable  degree  of  liberty.  From  the  entries  in  the 
Baptist  church-book,  he  appears  to  have  been  regularly 
present  at  their  social  meetings  ;  and  in  October,  1671, 
though  still  a  prisoner,  he  was  elected  to  the  office  of  co- 
pastor  or  elder  of  that  community.  Among  the  works 
written  during  his  confinement  we  find  enumerated  the 
following :  Of  Prayer  by  the  Spirit.  The  Holy  City's 
Resurrection.  Grace  Abounding  Ahe  autobiographical  nar- 
rative so  often  referred  to).  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Part  I. 
Defence  of  the  Doctrine  of  Justification  against  Bishop 
Fowler.  This  last  work  is  dated  from  prison,  the  21st  of 
the  nth  month,  1671. 

The  First  Part  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  known  to 
have  been  written  during  his  imprisonment ;  but,  as  no 
extant  copy  of  the  first  edition  has  hitherto  been  discovered, 
the  year  in  which  it  was  published  remains  uncertain.  The 
date  of  the  second  edition,  of  which  a  copy  is  in  the  British 
Museum,  is  1678.  If,  therefore,  the  work  was  published 
before  his  release,  or  even  immediately  after  it,  the  sale 
must  have  been  very  slow  and  limited  for  some  years  after 
its  appearance.  But  when  once  it  had  found  its  way  into 
general  circulation,  edition  after  edition  was  rapidly  called 
for.  The  eighth  edition  was  published  in  1682,  the  ninth 
in  1684,  and  the  tenth  in  1685.  In  the  mean  time,  several 
dishonest  imitations  of  his  work  had  appeared  ;  some  of 
them  counterfeiting  his  popular  title,  others  purporting  to 
be  a  second  part.  These  interlopers  may  have  furnished 
an  additiona    inducement  to  Bunyan  to  put  forth  his  own 


24  MEMOIR    OF   JOHN  BUN  TAN. 

Continuation  of  the   Parable,  which  appeared  in  January, 
1684. 

It  is  probable  that  Bunyan  had  already  become  known 
by  his  writings  when  he  obtained  his  release.  How  this 
was  effected  is  not  known,  but  some  time  in  1672  a  day  of 
thanksgiving  was  observed  by  his  flock  on  the  occasion 
of  his  deliverance.  The  author  of  the  Continuation  of  his 
Life,  appended  to  his  own  Narrative,*  states,  that  "  Dr. 
Barlow,  the  then  bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  other  Churchmen," 
had  been  "moved  by  his  patience  to  pity  his  hard  and 
unreasonable  sufferings,  so  far  as  to  stand  very  much  his 
friends  in  procuring  his  enlargement."  And  the  interference 
of  Bishop  Barlow  has  been  ascribed,  upon  credible  authority, 
to  the  intercession  of  Dr.  John  Owen.  For  this  story  there 
must  be  some  foundation.  Yet  Barlow  was  not  made  a 
bishop  till  1675  ;  and  it  may  be  questioned  whether,  at 
that  period,  anything  short  of  a  royal  order  could  have  se- 
cured to  Bunyan  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  his  personal 
freedom  and  his  liberty  to  preach.  The  Conventicle  Act 
had  been  revived  in  1670  in  all  its  severity.  Yet,  shortly 
after  his  enlargement,  Bunyan  was  enabled  to  build  a  meet- 
ing-house by  the  voluntary  contributions  of  his  friends. 
In  the  church-book  it  is  entered:  "ii  August,  1672,  the 
ground  on  which  the  meeting-house  stands  was  bought  by 
subscription."  Here  he  continued  to  preach  to  large  audi- 
ences, without  any  material  interruption.  "In  this  charge," 
says  the  Continuator  of  his  Narrative,  "he  often  had  dis- 
putes with  scholars  that  came  to  oppose  him,  as  supposing 

*  Supposed  to  have  been  Mr.  Charles  Doe,  a  Baptist  minister. 
He  describes  himself  as  "a  true  friend  and  long  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  Bunyan." 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN.  25 

mm  an  ignorant  person  ;  and,  though  he  argued  plainly, 
and  by  Scripture,  without  phrases  and  logical  expressions, 
yet  he  nonplussed"  them  by  his  pertinent  answers.  Every 
year  he  used  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  friends  in  London,  where 
his  reputation  as  a  preacher  was  so  great  that  "  if  but  a 
day's  notice  were  given,  the  meeting-house  in  Southwark, 
where  he  generally  preached,  would  not  hold  half  the  people 
that  attended.  Three  thousand  persons  have  been  gathered 
together  for  the  purpose  in  a  remote  part  of  the  town  ;  and 
no  fewer  than  twelve  hundred,  on  a  dark  winter's  morning, 
at  seven  o'clock,  even  on  week-days."  Dr.  Owen  is  stated 
to  have  been  among  his  occasional  auditors  ;  and  an  anec- 
dote is  on  record  that,  being  asked  by  Charles  II.  how  a 
learned  man,  such  as  he  was,  could  sit  and  hear  an  illiterate 
tinker  prate,  he  replied  :  "  May  it  please  your  majesty, 
could  I  possess  that  tinker's  abilities  for  preaching,  I  would 
most  gladly  relinquish  all  my  learning."  The  anecdote,  if 
true,  may  be  thought  to  illustrate  the  modesty  and  generous 
candour  of  Owen,  himself  an  accomplished  pulpit  orator,  as 
much  as  the  power  of  Bunyan's  native  eloquence  :  yet  it  is 
quite  credible  that  Owen  should  prize  above  all  his  scho- 
lastic attainments  the  native  genius  displayed  by  the  un- 
educated preacher,  in  combination  with  the  peculiar  unction 
that  appears  to  have  characterized  his  ministry. 

Besides  his  annual  visit  to  London,  Bunyan  occasionally 
visited  other  parts  of  the  country;  "insomuch,"  says  the 
same  authority,  "that  some,  by  these  visitations  that  he 
had  -..ade,  which  were  two  or  three  every  year  (though  in 
jeering  manner,  no  doubt),  gave  him  the  epithet  of  Bishop 
Bunyan  ;  while  others  envied  him  for  his  so  earnestly 
labouring  in  Christ's  vineyard."  The  Baptist  congregation 
\\.    Hilcliin    in    HeiUordshire    is    supposed    to    have    been 


26  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN  TAN. 

founded  b)  him.  There  is  a  deep  dell  in  a  wood  near  the 
village  of  Preston,  where  a  thousand  people  could  collect ; 
and  there  Bunyan  used  frequently  to  preach  to  large  con- 
gregations. A  chimney-corner  in  a  house  in  the  same 
wood  is  still  looked  upon  with  veneration,  as  having  been 
the  place  of  his  refreshment.  About  five  miles  from 
Hitchin  was  a  famous  Puritan  preaching-place,  called 
Bendish,  where  also  Bunyan  was  in  the  practice  of  preach- 
ing, in  an  old  malt-house  ;  and  the  pulpit  was  carefully 
removed,  as  an  honoured  relic,  when,  in  1787,  the  meeting 
was  transferred  to  Coleman's  Green.  Other  congregations 
in  Bedfordshire  are  believed  to  owe  their  origin  to  his  mid- 
night preaching  during  his  imprisonment,  when  he  enjoyed 
the  liberty,  by  sufferance,  of  making  secret  excursions  to 
visit  his  friends.  Reading,  in  Berkshire,  was  another  place 
which  he  frequently  visited  ;  and  a  tradition  has  been  pre- 
served by  the  Baptist  congregation  there  that  he  sometimes 
went  through  that  town  dressed  hke  a  carter,  with  a  long 
whip  in  his  hand,  to  avoid  detection.  The  house  in  which 
the  Baptists  met  for  worship  stood  in  a  lane,  and  from  the 
back  door  they  had  a  bridge  over  a  branch  of  the  river 
Kennett,  whereby,  in  case  of  alarm,  they  might  escape. 
In  a  visit  to  that  place,  prompted  by  his  characteristic 
kindness  of  heart,  he  contracted  the  disease  which  brought 
him  to  his  grave.  The  son  of  a  gentleman  who  resided 
there  having  fallen  under  his  father's  displeasure,  who 
threatened  to  disinherit  him,  applied  to  Mr.  Bunyan  to  act 
as  a  mediator  on  his  behalf  He  did  so  with  good  success  ; 
and  it  was  his  last  labour  of  love.  As  he  returned  to 
London  on  horseback,  he  was  overtaken  by  heavy  rains 
and  took  cold.  A  violent  fever  ensued  ;  and,  after  an  ill- 
ness of  ten  days,  he        esigned  his  soul  into  the  hands  of 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUNTAN.  27 

his  most  merciful  Redeemer."  He  died  at  the  house  of  his 
friend  Mr.  Struddock  (or  Stradwick),  a  grocer,  on  Snow- 
hill,  on  the  1 2th  of  August,  16S8,  in  the  sixty-first  year  of 
his  age,  and  was  buried  in  his  host's  vault  at  Bunhill- 
fields,  where  a  handsome  tomb  has  been  erected  to  his 
memory. 

The  following  description  of  his  person  and  character  has 
been  drawn  by  his  first  biographer :  "  He  appeared  in 
countenance  to  be  of  a  stern  and  rough  temper,  but  in  his 
conversation  mild  and  affable  ;  not  given  to  loquacity  or 
much  discourse  in  company,  unless  some  urgent  occasion 
required  it ;  observing  never  to  boast  of  himself  or  his 
parts,  but  rather  to  seem  low  in  his  own  eyes,  and  submit 
himself  to  the  judgment  of  others  ;  .  .  .  loving  to  reconcile 
differences  and  make  friendship  with  all.  He  had  a  sharp, 
quick  eye,  accompanied  with  an  excellent  discerning  of 
persons,  being  of  good  judgment  and  quick  wit.  As  for 
his  person,  he  was  tall  of  stature,  strong-boned,  though  not 
corpulent ;  somewhat  of  a  ruddy  face,  with  sparkling  eyes  ; 
wearing  his  hair  on  his  upper  lip  after  the  old  British 
fashion  ;  his  hair  reddish,  but,  in  his  latter  days,  time  had 
sprinkled  it  with  gray ;  his  nose  well  set,  but  not  de- 
clining or  bending,  and  his  mouth  moderately  large  ;  his 
forehead  somewhat  high  ;  and  his  habit  always  plain  and 
modest." 

Of  his  four  children  (there  were  none  by  his  second 
marriage),  three  survived  him :  the  blind  daughter,  on 
whose  behalf  he  expressed  such  tender  solicitude,  died  a 
few  years  before  him.  His  wife  Elizabeth,  who  had 
pleaded  his  cause  with  so  much  energy  and  feeling  before 
the  justxes,  "having  lived  to  see  him  overcome  his  labour 
and  sorrow,  and  p^ss   from   this   life  to  receivt:  the   reward 


28 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  BUN Y AN. 


of  his  work,  long  survived  liim  not ;  for  in  1692  she  died 
to  follow  her  faithful  pilgrim  from  this  world  to  the  other, 
whilst  his  works,"  quaintly  adds  the  same  biographer, 
"  which  consists  of  sixty  books,  remain  for  the  edifying  of 
the  reader  ar  d  praise  of  the  author." 


THE 


PILGRIM'S   Progress. 


THIS   WORLD   TO   THAT   WHICH    IS   TO   COME. 

DELIVERED   UNDER   THE   SIMILITUDE   OF   A    DREAM. 

PART    I. 

WHEREIN  ARE  DISCOVERED  THE  MANNER  OF  HIS  SET- 
TING OUT;  HIS  DANGEROUS  JOURNEY;  AND  SAFE  AR- 
RIVAL AT  THE  DESIRED  COUNTRY. 

"I    HAVE   USED   SIMILITUDES." — HoS.  XU.  lO. 


THE 


AUTHOR'S    APOLOGY 


FOR    HIS    BOOK. 


g^HEN  at  the  first  I  took  my  pen  in  hand, 
Thus  for  to  write,  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  book 
In  such  a  mode  :   nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another  ;  which  when  almost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware,  I  this  begun. 

And  thus  it  was  :    I,  writing  of  the  way 
And  race  of  saints  in  this  our  gospel-day, 
F-'ll  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey,  and  the  way  to  glory, 
In  more  than  twenty  things,  which  I  set  down : 
This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  my  crown  ; 
And  they  again  began  to  multiply, 
Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly. 
Nay  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast, 
I'll  put  you  by  yourselves,  lest  you  at  last 

31 


32  THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY, 

Should  prove  ad  injinituin,  and  eat  out 
The  book  that  I  already  am  about 

Well,  so  I  did  ;  but  yet  I  did  not  think 
To  show  to  all  the  world  my  pen  and  ink 
In  such  a  mode  ;   I  only  thought  to  make 
I  knew  not  what ;  nor  did  I  undertake 
Thereby  to  please  my  neighbour  ;   no,  not  I  ; 
I  did  it  mine  own  self  to  gratify. 

Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend 
In  this  my  scribble  ;   nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this, 
From  worser  thoughts  which  make  me  do  amiss. 

Thus  I  set  pen  to  paper  with  delight. 
And  quickly  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white. 
For  having  now  my  method  by  the  end, 
Still  as  I  pulled,  it  came  ;  and  so  I  penned 
It  down  ;   until  at  last  it  came  to  be. 
For  length  and  breadth,  the  bigness  which  you  see. 

Well,  when  I  had  thus  put  my  ends  together, 
I  showed  them  others,  that  I  might  see  whether 
They  would  condemn  them,  or  them  justify  ; 
And  some  said,  Let  them  live  ;  some,  Let  them  die ; 
Some  said,  John,  print  it ;  others  said,  Not  so  : 
Some  said,  It  might  do  good  ;  others  said,  No. 

Now  was  I  in  a  strait,  and  did  not  see 
Which  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  by  me  : 
At  last  I  thought,  Since  you  are  thus  divided, 
I  print  it  will ;  and  so  the  case  decided. 

For,  thought  I,  some  I  see  would  have  it  done, 
Though  others  in  that  channel  do  not  run : 
To  prove,  then,  who  advised  for  the  best, 
Thus  I  thought  fit  to  put  it  to  the  test. 


THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY.  33 

I  further  thought,  if  now  I  did  deny 
Those  that  would  have  it  thus  to  gratify, 
I  did  not  know  but  hinder  them  I  might 
Of  that  which  would  to  them  be  great  delight : 
For  those  which  were  not  for  its  coming  forth, 
I  said  to  them,  Offend  you  I  am  loath; 
Yet,  since  your  brethren  pleased  with  it  be, 
Forbear  to  judge,  till  you  do  further  see. 

If  that  thou  wilt  not  read,  let  it  alone  ; 
Some  love  the  meat,  some  love  to  pick  the  bone ; 
Yea,  that  I  might  them  better  palliate, 
I  did  too  with  them  thus  expostulate  : 

May  I  not  write  in  such  a  style  as  this  ? 
In  such  a  method  too,  and  yet  not  miss 
My  end,  thy  good  ?     Why  may  it  not  be  done  ? 
Dark  clouds  bring  waters,  when  the  bright  bring  none. 
Yea,  dark  or  bright,  if  they  their  silver  drops 
Cause  to  descend,  the  earth,  by  yielding  crops. 
Gives  praise  to  both,  and  carpeth  not  at  either, 
But  treasures  up  the  fruit  they  yield  together  ; 
Yea,  so  commixes  both,  that  in  their  fruit 
None  can  distinguish  this  from  that ;  they  suit 
Her  well  when  hungry  ;  but,  if  she  be  full. 
She  spews  out  both,  and  makes  their  blessing  null. 

You  see  the  ways  the  fisherman  doth  take 
To  catch  the  fish  ;  what  engines  doth  he  make  ! 
Behold  !  how  he  engageth  all  his  wits  ; 
Also  his  snares,  lines,  angles,  hooks,  and  nets  ; 
Yet  fish  there  be,  that  neither  hook  nor  line, 
Nor  snare,  nor  net,  nor  engine,  can  make  thine  ; 
They  must  be  groped  for,  and  be  tickled  too. 
Or  they  will  not  be  catched,  whate'er  you  do. 
3 


34  THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGT. 

How  does  the  fowler  seek  to  catch  his  game  ? 
By  divers  means,  all  which  one  cannot  name  : 
His  guns,  his  nets,  his  lime-twigs,  light  and  bell : 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands  ;  yea,  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures  ?     Yet  there's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  fowls  he  please. 
Yea,  he  must  pipe  and  whistle  to  catch  this, 
Yet,  if  he  does  so,  that  bird  he  will  miss. 

If  that  a  pearl  may  in  a  toad's  head  dwell. 
And  may  be  found  too  in  an  oyster  shell, 
If  things  that  promise  nothing  do  contain 
What  better  is  than  gold,  who  will  disdain, 
That  have  an  inkling  of  it,  there  to  look. 
That  they  may  find  it  ?     Now,  my  little  book 
(Though  void  of  all  these  paintings,  that  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  man  to  take) 
Is  not  without  those  things  that  do  excel 
What  do  in  brave  but  empty  notions  dwell. 

Well,  yet  I  am  not  fully  satisfied 
That  this  your  book  will  stand,  when  soundly  tried. 

Why,  what's  the  matter.''    //  is  dark!    What  though  ? 
But  it  is  feigned.     What  of  that  .-*     I  trow 
Some  men,  by  feigned  words,  as  dark  as  mine, 
Make  truth  to  spangle,  and  its  rays  to  shine  ! 
But  they  want  solidness.     Speak,  man,  thy  mind  ! 
They  drown  the  weak ;  metaphors  tnake  us  blind. 

Solidit}',  indeed,  becomes  the  pen 
Of  him  that  writeth  things  divine  to  men : 
But  must  I  needs  want  solidness,  because 
By  metaphors  I  speak  ?     Were  not  God's  laws, 
His  gospel  laws,  in  olden  time  held  forth 
By  shadows,  types,  and  metaphors  ?     Yet  loath 


THE   AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY.  35 

Will  any  sober  man  be  to  find  fault 
With  them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assault 
The  Highest  Wisdom  !      No,  he  rather  stoops, 
And  seeks  to  find  out  what  by  pins  and  loops, 
By  calves  and  sheep,  by  heifers  and  by  rams, 
By  birds  and  herbs,  and  by  the  blood  of  lambs, 
God  speaketh  to  him  ;  and  happy  is  he 
That  finds  the  hght  and  grace  that  in  them  be. 

Be  not  too  forward,  therefore,  to  conclude 
That  I  want  solidness,  that  I  am  rude  : 
All  things  solid  in  show,  not  solid  be ; 
All  things  in  parable  despise  not  we, 
Lest  things  most  hurtful  lightly  we  receive. 
And  things  that  good  are,  of  our  souls  bereave. 
My  dark  and  cloudy  words,  they  do  but  hold 
The  truth,  as  cabinets  enclose  the  gold. 

The  prophets  used  much  by  metaphors 
To  set  forth  truth  ;  yea,  whoso  considers 
Christ,  his  apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see 
That  truths  to  this  day  in  such  mantles  be. 

Am  I  afraid  to  say,  that  holy  writ, 
Which  for  its  style  and  phrase  puts  down  all  wit, 
Is  everywhere  so  full  of  all  these  things 
(Dark  figures,  allegories),  yet  there  springs 
From  that  same  book,  that  lustre,  and  those  rays 
Of  light,  that  turn  our  darkest  nights  to  days. 

Come,  let  my  carper  to  his  life  now  look, 
And  find  there  darker  lines  than  in  my  book 
He  findeth  any ;  yea,  and  let  him  know, 
That  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too. 

May  we  but  stand  before  impartial  men, 
To  his  pojr  one  I  dare  adventure  ten, 


36  THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGr. 

That  »i\«jy  will  take  my  meaning  in  these  lines 
Far  better  than  his  h'es  in  silver  shrines. 
Come,  truth,  although  in  swaddling-clouts,  I  find 
Informs  the  judgment,  rectifies  the  mind  ; 
Pleases  the  understanding,  makes  the  will 
Submit ;  the  memory  too  it  doth  fill 
With  what  doth  our  imagination  please  ; 
Likewise  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease. 

Sound  words,  I  know,  Timothy  is  to  use, 
And  old  wives'  fables  he  is  to  refuse  ; 
But  yet  grave  Paul  him  nowhere  did  forbid 
The  use  of  parables,  in  which  lay  hid 
That  gold,  those  pearls,  and  precious  stones  that  were 
Worth  digging  for,  and  that  with  greatest  care. 

Let  me  add  one  word  more ;   O  man  of  God, 
Art  thou  offended  ?     Dost  thou  wish  I  had 
Put  forth  my  matter  in  another  dress  ? 
Or  that  I  had  in  things  been  more  express  ? 
To  those  that  are  my  betters,  as  is  fit, 
Three  things  let  me  propound,  then  I  submit : 

I.  I  find  not  that  I  am  denied  the  use 
Of  this  my  method,  so  I  no  abuse 
Put  on  the  words,  things,  readers,  or  be  rude 
In  handling  figure  or  similitude, 
In  application  ;  but  all  that  I  may 
Seek  the  advance  of  truth,  this  or  that  way. 
Denied,  did  I  say  ?     Nay,  I  have  leave 
(Examples  too,  and  that  from  them  that  have 
God  better  pleased,  by  their  words-  or  ways, 
Than  any  man  that  breatheth  now-a-days) 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thee  that  excellentest  are. 


THE   AUTHOR'S  APOLOGT.  Zl 

2.  I  find  that  men  as  high  as  trees  will  wr  Je 
Dialogue-wise  ;  yet  no  man  doth  them  slight 
For  writing  so  :  indeed,  if  they  abuse 

Truth,  cursed  be  they,  and  the  craft  they  use 
To  that  intent ;  but  yet  let  truth  be  free 
To  make  her  sallies  upon  thee  and  me, 
Which  way  it  pleases  God  ;  for  who  knows  how, 
Better  than  He  that  taught  us  first  to  plough, 
To  guide  our  minds  and  pens  for  his  design  ? 
And  He  makes  base  things  usher  in  divine. 

3.  I  find  that  holy  writ,  in  many  places, 

Hath  semblance  with  this  method,  where  the  cases 
Do  call  for  one  thing  to  set  forth  another : 
Use  it  I  may  then,  and  yet  nothing  smother 
Truth's  golden  beams  :  nay,  by  this  method  may 
Make  it  cast  forth  its  rays  as  light  as  day. 

And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  pen, 
I'll  show  the  profit  of  my  book  ;  and  then 
Commit  both  me  and  it  unto  that  hand 
That  pulls  the  strong  down,  and  makes  weak  ones  stard. 

This  book  it  chalketh  out  before  thine  eyes 
The  man  that  seeks  the  everlasting  prize : 
It  shows  you  whence  he  comes,  whither  he  goes, 
What  he  leaves  undone  ;  also  what  he  does  : 
It  also  shows  you  how  he  runs  and  runs, 
Till  he  unto  the  Gate  of  Glory  comes. 

It  shows  too  who  set  out  for  hfe  amain, 
As  if  the  lasting  crown  they  would  obtain; 
Here  also  you  may  see  the  reason  why 
They  lose  their  labour,  and  like  fools  do  die. 

This  book  will  make  a  traveller  of  thee, 
If  by  its  counsel  thou  wilt  rul6d  be  ; 


38  THE  AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 

It  will  direct  tliee  to  the  Holy  Land, 
If  thou  wilt  its  direction  understand  ; 
Yea,  it  will  make  the  slothful  active  be  ; 
The  blind  also  delightful  things  to  see. 

Art  thou  for  something  rare  and  profitable  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  see  a  truth  within  a  fable  ? 
Art  thou  forgetful  ?     Wouldst  thou  remember 
From  New  Year's  day  to  the  last  of  December  ? 
Then  read  my  fancies  ;  they  will  stick  like  burrs, 
And  may  be  to  the  helpless,  comforters. 

This  book  is  writ  in  such  a  dialect 
As  may  the  minds  of  listless  men  affect : 
It  seems  a  novelty,  and  yet  contains 
Nothing  but  sound  and  honest  gospel  strains. 

Wouldst  thou  divert  thyself  from  melancholy  ? 
Wouldst  thou  be  pleasant,  yet  be  far  from  folly  ? 
Wouldst  thou  read  riddles  and  their  explanation  ? 
Or  else  be  drowned  in  thy  contemplation  ? 
Dost  thou  love  picking  meat  ?     Or  wouldst  thou  see 
A  man  i'  the  clouds,  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee  ? 
Wouldst  thou  be  in  a  dream,  and  yet  not  sleep  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  in  a  moment  laugh  and  weep  ? 
Wouldst  thou  lose  thyself  and  catch  no  harm, 
And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm  ? 
Wouldst  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  knowest  not  what, 
And  yet  know  whether  thou  art  blest  or  not. 
By  reading  the  same  lines  ?     Oh  then  come  hither  ! 
And  lay  my  book,  thy  head,  and  heart  together. 

JOHN  BUNYAN. 


THE 


PILGRIM'S  Progress. 


PART    I. 


S  I  walked  through  the  wilderness  of  this 
world,  I  lighted  on  a  certain  place  where 
was  a  den,  and  laid  me  down  in  that  place 
to  sleep ;  and  as  I  slept  I  dreamed  a  dream.  I 
dreamed,  and,  behold,  I  saw  a  man  clothed  witl" 
rags  standing  in  a  certain  place,  with  his  face  from 
his  own  house,  a  book  in  his  hand  and  a  great  bur- 
den upon  his  back.'  I  looked,  and  saw  him  open 
the  book  and  read  therein  ;  and,  as  he  read,  he  wept 
and  trembled  ;  and,  not  being  able  longer  to  contain, 
he  brake  out  with  a  lamentable  cry,  saying,  "  What 
shall  I  do  ?"  ^ 

>  Tsa.  Ixiv.  5  ;  Luke  xiv.  33  ;  Ps.  xxxviii.  4  ;  Hah.  ii.  2. 

2  Acts  ii.  37. 

&9 


40  THE  PILGRIM' :s   PROGRESS. 

In  tliis  plight,  therefore,  he  went  home,  and  re- 
strained himself  as  long  as  he  could,  that  his  wife 
and  children  should  not  perceive  his  distress ;  but  he 
could  not  be  silent  long,  because  that  his  trouble  in- 
creased. Wherefore,  at  length,  he  brake  his  mind 
to  his  wife  and  children  ;  and  thus  he  began  to  talk 
to  them  :  Oh,  my  dear  wife,  said  he,  and  you  the 
children  of  my  bowels,  I,  your  dear  friend,  am  in 
myself  undone  by  reason  of  a  burden  that  lieth  hard 
upon  me  ;  moreover,  I  am  certainly  informed  that 
this  our  city  will  be  burnt  with  fire  from  heaven  ;  in 
which  fearful  overthrow,  both  myself,  with  thee,  my 
wife,  and  you,  my  sweet  babes,  shall  miserably  come 
to  ruin,  except  ( the  which  yet  I  see  not)  some  way 
of  escape  can  be  found,  whereby  we  may  be  deliv- 
ered. At  this  his  relations  were  sore  amazed  ;  not 
for  that  they  believed  that  what  he  had  said  to  them 
was  true,  but  because  they  thought  that  some  frenzy 
distemper  had  got  into  his  head.  Therefore,  it 
drawing  towards  night,  and  they  hoping  that  sleep 
might  settle  his  brains,  with  all  haste  they  got  him 
to  bed.  But  the  night  was  as  troublesome  to  him  as 
the  day  ;  wherefore,  instead  of  sleeping,  he  spent  it 
in  sighs  and  tears.  So  when  the  morning  was  come, 
they  would  know  how  he  did.  He  told  them.  Worse 
and  worse.  He  also  set  to  talking  to  them  again  ; 
but  they  began  to  be  hardened.     They  also  thought 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  41 

to  drive  away  his  distemper  by  harsh  and  s  jrly  .  .ir- 
riage  to  him  :  sometimes  they  would  deride,  some- 
times they  would  chide,  and  sometimes  they  would 
quite  neglect  him.  Wherefore  he  began  to  retire 
himself  to  his  chamber,  to  pray  for  and  pity  them, 
and  also  to  condole  his  own  misery.  He  would  also 
walk  solitarily  in  the  fields,  sometimes  reading,  and 
sometimes  praying :  and  thus  for  some  days  he  spent 
his  time. 

Now  I  saw,  upon  a  time,  when  he  was  walking 
in  the  fields,  that  he  was  (as  he  was  wont)  reading 
in  his  book,  and  greatly  distressed  in  his  mind  ;  and 
as  he  read,  he  burst  out,  as  he  had  done  before,  cry- 
ing, "What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved ?"^ 

I  saw  also  that  he  looked  this  way,  and  that  way, 
as  if  he  would  run  ;  yet  he  stood  still,  because  (  as  I 
perceived)  he  could  not  tell  which  way  to  go.  I 
looked  then,  and  saw  a  man  named  Evangelist 
coming  to  him,  and  he  asked,  Wherefore  dost  thou 
cry  ? 

He  answered.  Sir,  I  perceive,  by  the  book  in  my 
hand,  that  I  am  condemned  to  die,  and  after  that  to 
come  to  judgment;  and  I  find  that  I  am  not  willing 
to  do  the  first,  nor  able  to  do  the  second.* 

Then  said  Evangelist,  Why  not  willing  to  die, 
since  this  life  is  attended  with  so  many  evils?  Tiie 
*  Acts  xvi.  30,  31.     '  Ileb.  ix.  27  ;  Job  xvi.  21,  22  ;  Ezek.  xxii.  14. 


42  THE  PILGRIMS  PROGi.ESS. 

man  answered,  Because  I  fear  that  this  burden  that 
is  upon  my  back  will  sink  me  lower  than  the  grave, 
and  I  shall  fall  into  Tophet.'  And,  sir,  if  I  be  not 
fit  to  go  to  prison,  I  am  not  fit  to  go  to  judgment, 
and  from  thence  to  execution  :  and  the  thoughts  of 
these  things  make  me  cry. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  If  this  be  thy  condition, 
why  standest  thou  still?  He  answered,  Because  I 
know  not  whither  to  go.  Then  he  gave  him  a  parch- 
ment roll ;  and  there  was  written  within,  "  Flee 
from  the  wrath  to  come."  ^ 

The  man  therefore  read  it,  and  looking  upon 
Evangelist  very  carefully,  said.  Whither  must  I  flee.? 
Then  said  Evangelist,  pointing  with  his  finger  over 
a  very  wide  field.  Do  you  see  vonder  wicket-gate.''' 
The  man  said.  No.  Then  said  the  other,  Do  you 
see  yonder  shining  light  .^*  He  said,  I  think  I  do. 
Then  said  Evangelist,  Keep  that  light  in  your  eye, 
and  go  up  directly  thereto,  so  shalt  thou  see  the  gate  ; 
at  which,  when  thou  kiiockest,  it  shall  be  told  thee 
what  thou  shalt  do.  So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that 
the  man  began  to  run.  Now  he  had  not  run  far 
from  his  own  door,  when  his  wife  and  children  per- 
ceiving it,  began  to  cry  after  him  to  return  f  but  the 
man  put  his  fingers  in  his  ears,  and  ran  on,  crying, 

1  Isa.  XXX.  33.  2  Matt.  iii.  7.  ^  Matt.  vii.  13,  14. 

*  I's.  cxix.  105  ;  2  Pet.  i.  19.  ^  Luke  xiv.  26. 


THE  PJLGJilM'S  PliOGlihSS.  43 

"  Life  !  life  !  eternal  life  !"  So  he  looked  not  behind 
him,'  but  fled  toward  the  middle  of  the  plain. 

The  neighbours  also  came  out  to  see  him  run  : 
and,  as  he  ran,  some  mocked,  others  threatened,  and 
some  cried  after  him  to  return  ;  and  among  those 
that  did  so,  there  were  two  that  were  resolved  to 
fetch  him  back  by  force.  The  name  of  the  one  was 
Obstinate,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Pliable.  Now 
by  this  time  the  man  was  got  a  good  distance  from 
them  ;  but,  however,  they  were  resolved  to  pursue 
him  ;  wdiich  they  did,  and  in  a  little  time  they  over- 
took him.  Then  said  the  man,  Neighbours,  where- 
fore are  you  come?  They  said.  To  persuade  you  to 
go  back  with  us.  But  he  said.  That  can  by  no 
means  be.  You  dwell  in  the  city  of  Destruction  ; 
the  place  also  where  I  was  born  :  I  see  it  to  be  so  ; 
and  dying  there,  sooner  or  later,  you  will  sink  lower 
than  the  grave,  into  a  place  that  burns  with  fire  and 
brimstone  :  be  content,  good  neighbours,  and  go  along 
with  me. 

What,  said  Obstinate,  and  leave  our  friends  and 
our  comforts  behind  us? 

Yes,  said  Christian  (for  that  was  his  name),  be- 
cause that  all  which  you  shall  forsake,  is  not  worthy 
to  be  compared  with  a  litUe  of  that  wdiich  I  am  seek- 
ing to  enjoy  ;^  and  if  you  will  go  along  with  me,  and 
^  Gen.  xix.  17.  '^  2  Cor.  iv.  18. 


44  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

hold  it,  you  shall  fare  as  I  myself;  for  there,  A/ierc 
I  go,  is  enough  and  to  spare.^  Come  away,  and 
prove  my  words. 

Obst.  What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since  you 
leave  all  the  world  to  find  them  ? 

Chr.  I  seek  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  unde 
filed,  and  that  fadeth  not  away ;  and  it  is  laid  up  in 
heaven,'  and  safe  there,  to  be  bestowed,  at  the  time 
appointed,  on  them  that  diligently  seek  it.     Read  it 
so,  if  you  will,  in  my  book. 

Tush,  said  Obstinate,  away  with  your  book  ;  will 
you  go  back  with  us  or  no  } 

No,  not  I,  said  the  other,  because  I  have  laid  my 
hand  to  the  plough.' 

Obst.  Come  then,  neighbour  Pliable,  let  us  turn 
again,  and  go  home  without  him:  there  is  a  com- 
pany of  these  crazy-headed  coxcombs,  who,  when 
they  take  a  fancy  by  the  end,  are  wiser  in  their  own 
eyes  than  seven  men  that  can  i-ender  a  reason. 

Then  said  Pliable,  Don't  revile  ;  if  what  the  good 
Christian  says  is  true,  the  things  he  looks  after  are 
better  than  ours:  my  heart  inclines  to  go  with  my 
neighbour. 

Obst.  What !  more  fools  still !  Be  ruled  by  me, 
and  go  back ;  who  knows  whither  such  a  brainsick 

1  Luke  XV.  17.  *  I  Pet.  i.  4-6;  Heb.  xi.  6,  16. 

8  Luke  ix.  62. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  45 

fellow  will  lead  you  ?  Go  back,  go  back,  and  be 
wise. 

Chr.  Nay,  but  do  thou  come  with  thy  neighbour 
Pliable  ;  there  are  such  things  to  be  had  which  I 
spoke  of,  and  many  more  glories  besides.  If  you 
believe  not  me,  read  here  in  this  book  ;  and,  for  the 
truth  of  what  is  expressed  therein,  behold,  all  is 
confirmed  by  the  blood  of  Him  that  made  it.* 

Well,  neighbour  Obstinate,  said  Pliable,  I  begin 
to  come  to  a  point ;  I  intend  to  go  along  with  this 
good  man,  and  to  cast  in  my  lot  with  him  :  but,  my 
good  companion,  do  you  know  the  way  to  this  de- 
sired place? 

Chr.  I  am  directed  by  a  man,  whose  name  is 
Evangelist,  to  speed  me  to  a  little  gate  that  is  before 
us,  where  we  shall  receive  instructions  about  the 
way. 

Pli.  Come  then,  good  neighbour,  let  us  be  going. 
Then  they  went  both  together. 

And  I  will  go  back  to  my  place,  said  Obstinate : 
I  will  be  no  companion  of  such  misled,  fantastical 
fellows. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  when  Obstinate 
was  gone  back,  Christian  and  Pliable  went  talking 
over  the  plain  ;  and  thus  they  began  their  discourse. 

Chr.  Come,  neighbour  Pliable,  how  do  you  do? 

*  Heb,  ix.  17-22. 


46  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

I  am  glad  you  are  persuaded  to  go  along  with  rhe. 
Had  even  Obstinate  himself  but  felt  what  I  have 
felt,  of  the  powers  and  terrors  of  what  is  yet  un- 
seen, he  would  not  thus  lightly  have  given  us  the 
back. 

Pli.  Come,  neighbour  Christian,  since  there  are 
none  but  us  two  here,  tell  me  now  farther,  what  the 
things  are,  and  how  to  be  enjoyed,  whither  we  are 
going. 

Chr.  I  can  better  conceive  of  them  with  my 
mind,  than  speak  of  them  with  my  tongue  :  but  yet, 
since  you  are  desirous  to  know,  I  will  read  of  them 
in  my  book. 

Pli.  And  do  you  think  that  the  words  of  your 
book  are  certainly  true  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  verily ;  for  it  was  made  by  Him  that 
cannot  lie.^ 

Pli.  Well  said  ;  what  things  are  they.? 

Chr.  There  is  an  endless  kingdom  to  be  inhab- 
ited, and  everlasting  life  to  be  given  us,  that  we  may 
inhabit  that  kingdom  for  ever.* 

Pli.  Well  said  ;  and  what  else? 

Chr.  There  are  crowns  of  glory  to  be  given  us ; 
and  garments  that  will  make  us  shine  like  the  sun  in 
the  firmament  of  heaven.' 

1  Tit.  i.  2.  2  Isa.  Ixv.  17  ;  John  x.  27-29. 

5  2  Tina.  iv.  8 ;  Rev.  xxii.  5  ;  Matt.  xiii.  43. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  47 

Pli.  This  is  very  pleasant;  and  what  else? 

Chu.  There  shall  be  no  more  crying,  nor  sorrow ; 
for  He  that  is  owner  of  the  place  will  wipe  all  tears 
from  our  eyes.^ 

Pli.  And  what  company  shall  we  have  there? 

Chr.  There  we  shall  be  with  seraphims  and  cher- 
ubims,  creatures  that  will  dazzle  your  eyes  to  look 
on  them.^  There  also  you  shall  meet  with  thousands 
and  ten  thousands  that  have  gone  before  us  to  that 
place ;  none  of  them  are  hurtful,  but  loving  and 
holy ;  every  one  walking  in  the  sight  of  God,  and 
standing  in  his  presence  with  acceptance  for  ever. 
In  a  word,  there  we  shall  see  the  elders  with  their 
golden  crowns  f  there  we  shall  see  the  holy  virgins 
with  their  golden  harps  ;*  there  we  shall  see  men 
that  by  the  world  were  cut  in  pieces,  burnt  in  flames, 
eaten  of  beasts,  drowned  in  the  seas,  for  the  love 
they  bare  to  the  Lord  of  the  place,  all  well,  and 
clothed  with  immortality  as  with  a  garment.* 

Pli.  The  hearing  of  this  is  enough  to  ravish  one's 
heart.  But  are  these  things  to  be  enjoyed?  How 
shall  we  get  to  be  sharers  thereof? 

Chr.  The  Lord,  the  governor  of  the  country,  hath 
recorded  that  in  this  book,  the  substance  of  which 

'  Isa.  XXV.  8;  Rev.  vii.  16,  17  ;  xxi.  4. 

*  Isa.  vi.  2 ;   i  Thess.  iv.  16,  17. 

'  Rev.  iv.  4.     <  Re",  xiv.  1-5.     *  John  xii.  25  ;  2  Cor.  v.  2-4. 


48  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

is,  If  we  be  truly  willing  to  have  it,  he  will  bestow 
it  upon  lis  freely.^ 

Pli.  Well,  my  good  companion,  glad  am  I  to  hear 
of  these  things :  come  on,  let  us  mend  our  pace. 

Chr.  I  cannot  go  so  fast  as  I  would,  by  reason  of 
this  burden  that  is  upon  my  back. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  just  as  they  had 
ended  this  talk,  they  drew  nigh  to  a  very  miry 
slough,  that  was  in  the  midst  of  the  plain  ;  and  they 
being  heedless,  did  both  fall  suddenly  into  the  bog. 
The  name  of  the  slough  was  Despond.  Hei-e, 
therefore,  they  wallowed  for  a  time,  being  grievously 
bedaubed  with  the  dirt ;  and  Christian,  because  of 
the  burden  that  was  on  his  back,  began  to  sink  in 
the  mire. 

Then  said  Pliable,  Ah,  neighbour  Christian,  where 
are  you  now-f* 

Truly,  said  Christian,  I  do  not  know. 

At  that  Pliable  began  to  be  offended,  and  angrily 
said  to  his  fellow.  Is  this  the  happiness  you  have 
told  me  of  all  this  while  ?  If  we  have  such  ill  speed 
at  our  first  setting  out,  what  may  we  expect  between 
this  and  our  journey's  end,-*  May  I  get  out  again 
with  my  life,  you  shall  possess  the  brave  country 
alone  for  me.  And  with  that  he  gave  a  desperate 
struggle  or  two,  and  got  out  of  the  mire  on  that  side 

*  Isa.  Iv.  1-8 ;  John  vi.  37  ;  vii.  37  ;  Rev.  xxi.  6,  7  ;  xxii.  17. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  49 

of  the  slough  which  was  next  to  his  own  house:  so 
away  he  went,  and  Christian  saw  him  no  more. 

Wherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in  the 
Slough  of  Despond  alone  :  but  still  he  endeavouied 
to  struggle  to  that  side  of  the  slough  that  was  farthest 
from  his  own  house,  and  next  to  the  Wicket-gate  ; 
the  which  he  did,  but  could  not  get  out  because  of 
the  burden  that  was  upon  his  back.  But  I  behelil 
in  my  dream,  that  a  man  came  to  him,  whose  name 
was  Help,  and  asked  him.  What  he  did  there.'' 

Sir,  said  Christian,  I  was  bid  to  go  this  way  by  a 
man  called  Evangelist,  who  directed  me  also  to 
yonder  gate,  that  I  might  escape  the  wrath  to  come. 
And  as  I  was  going  thither,  I  fell  in  here. 

Help.   But  why  did  not  you  look  for  the  steps? 

Chr.  Fear  followed  me  so  hard,  that  I  fled  the 
next  way,  and  fell  in. 

Tiien  said  he,  Give  me  thy  hand  :  so  he  gave  him 
his  hand,  and  he  drew  him  out,  and  set  him  upon 
sound  ground,  and  bid  him  go  on  his  way.^ 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  plucked  him  out,  and 
said,  Sir,  wherefore,  since  over  this  place  is  the  way 
from  the  city  of  Destruction  to  yonder  gate,  i'^  it, 
that  this  plat  is  not  mended,  that  poor  travellers 
might  go  thither  with  more  security.'*  And  he  said 
unto  me,  This  miry  slough  is  such  a  place  as  cannot 

1  Ps.  xl.  2. 
4 


5©  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

be  mended  ;  it  is  the  descent  whither  the  scur.i  and 
filth  that  attends  conviction  for  sin  doth  continually 
run,  and  therefore  it  is  called  the  Slough  of  Despond  ; 
for  still,  as  the  sinner  is  awakened  about  his  lost 
condition,  there  arise  in  his  soul  many  fears  and 
doubts,  and  discouraging  apprehensions,  which  all 
of  them  get  together,  and  settle  in  this  place.  And 
this  is  the  reason  of  the  badness  of  this  ground. 

It  is  not  the  pleasure  of  the  King  that  this  place 
should  remain  so  bad.^  His  labourers  also  have,  by 
the  direction  of  his  Majesty's  surveyors,  been  for 
above  these  sixteen  hundred  years  employed  about 
this  patch  of  ground,  if  perhaps  it  might  have  been 
mended  :  yea,  and  to  my  knowledge,  said  he,  here 
have  been  swallowed  up  at  least  twenty  thousand 
cart-loads,  yea,  millions  of  wholesome  instructions, 
that  have  at  all  seasons  been  brought  from  all  places 
of  the  King's  dominions  (  and  they  that  can  tell,  say, 
they  are  the  best  materials  to  make  good  ground  of 
the  place),  if  so  it  might  have  been  mended  ;  but  it 
is  the  Slough  of  Despond  still,  and  so  will  be  when 
they  have  done  what  they  can. 

True,  there  are,  by  the  direction  of  the  Lawgiver, 

certain    good    and    substantial    steps,    placed     even 

through   the  very  midst  of  this  slough  ;  but  at   such 

time  as  this  place  doth  much  spew  out  its  filtli,  as  it 

1  Isa.  XXXV.  3,  4,  8. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  5 1 

doth  against  change  of  weather,  these  steps  are 
hardly  seen  ;  or  if  they  be,  men,  through  the  dizzi- 
ness of  their  licads,  step  beside  ;  and  then  they  are 
bemiretl  to  purpose,  notwithstanding  the  steps  be 
there  :'  but  tlie  ground  is  good  when  they  are  once 
got  in  at  the  gate. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time  Pliable 
was  got  home  to  his  house.  So  his  neighbours  came 
to  visit  him  ;  and  some  of  them  called  him  wise  man 
for  coming  back,  and  some  called  him  fool  for  haz- 
arding himself  with  Christian:  others  again  did 
mock  at  his  cowardliness,  saying.  Surely,  since  you 
began  to  venture,  I  would  not  have  been  so  base  as 
to  have  given  out  for  a  few  difficulties  :  so  Pliable 
sat  sneaking  among  them.  But  at  last  he  got  more 
confidence,  and  then  they  all  turned  their  tales  and 
began  to  deride  poor  Christian  behind  his  back. 
And  thus  much  concerning  Pliable. 

Now  as  Christian  was  walking  solitarily  by  him- 
self, he  espied  one  afar  oft',  come  crossing  over  the 
field  to  meet  him  ;  and  their  hap  was  to  meet  just  as 
they  were  crossing  the  way  of  each  other.  The 
gentleman's  name  that  met  him  was  Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman  :  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Carnal  Policy,  a 
very  great  town,  and  also  hard-by  from  whence 
Christian  came.  This  man  then,  meeting  with 
1  I  Sam.  xii.  21. 


52  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Christian,  and  having  some  inkhng  of  him  for 
Christian's  setting  forth  from  the  city  of  Destruction 
was  much  noised  abroad,  not  onl}'  in  the  town  where 
he  dwelt,  but  also  it  began  to  be  the  town-talk  in 
some  other  places) — Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman,  there- 
fore, having  some  guess  of  him,  by  beholding  his 
laborious  going,  by  observing  his  sighs  and  groans, 
and  the  like,  began  thus  to  enter  into  some  talk  with 
Christian. 

World.  How  now,  good  fellow,  whither  away 
after  this  burdened  manner? 

Chr.  a  burdened  manner  indeed,  as  ever  I  think 
poor  creature  had  !  And  whereas  you  ask  me. 
Whither  away?  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  am  going  to  yon- 
der wicket-gate  before  me  ;  for  there,  as  I  am  in- 
formed, I  shall  be  put  into  a  way  to  be  rid  of  my 
heavy  burden. 

World.   Hast  thou  a  wife  and  children  ? 

Chr.  Yes  ;  but  I  am  so  laden  with  this  burden, 
that  I  cannot  take  that  pleasure  in  them  as  formerly: 
methinks  I  am  as  if  I  had  none.^ 

World.  Wilt  thou  hearken  to  me,  if  I  give  thee 
counsel  ? 

Chr.  If  it  be  good,  I  will ;  for  I  stand  in  need  of 
good  counsel. 

World.  I  would  advise  thee,  then,  that  thou  with 
'  I  Cor.  vii.  29. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PliOGRESS.  53 

all  speed  get  thyself  rid  of  thy  burden  ;  for  tliou  wilt 
never  be  settled  in  thy  mind  till  then  :  nor  canst 
thou  enjoy  the  benefits  of  the  blessings  which  God 
hath  bestowed  upon  thee,  till  then. 

Chr.  That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even  to  be  rid 
of  this  heavy  burden  :  but  get  it  off  myself  I  cannot ; 
nor  is  there  any  man  in  our  country  that  can  take  it 
oti'  my  shoulders  ;  therefore  am  I  going  this  way,  as 
I  told  you,  that  I  may  be  rid  of  my  burden. 

World.  Who  bid  thee  go  this  way  to  be  rid  of 
thy  burden  ? 

Chr.  a  man  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very 
great  and  honourable  person  :  his  name,  as  I  re- 
member, is  Evangelist. 

World.  I  beshrew  him  for  his  counsel !  there  is 
not  a  more  dangerous  and  troublesome  way  in  the 
world  than  is  that  into  which  he  hath  directed  thee  ; 
and  that  thou  shalt  find,  if  thou  wilt  be  ruled  by  his 
counsel.  Thou  hast  met  with  something,  as  I  per- 
ceive, already ;  for  I  see  tlie  dirt  of  the  Slough  of 
Despond  is  upon  thee  :  but  that  slough  is  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sorrows  that  do  attend  those  that  go  on 
in  that  way.  Hear  me  ;  I  am  older  than  thou  :  thou 
art  like  to  meet  with,  in  the  way  which  thou  goest, 
wearisomeness,  painfulness,  hunger,  perils,  naked- 
ness, sword,  lions,  dragons,  darkness,  and,  in  a  word, 
death,   an!  what  not.     T  ^ese  things  are  certainly 


54  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

true,  having  been  confirmed  by  many  testimonies. 
And  should  a  man  so  carelessly  cast  away  himself, 
by  giving  heed  to  a  stranger? 

Chr.  Why,  sir,  this  burden  upon  my  back  is  more 
terrible  to  me  than  are  all  these  things  which  you 
have  mentioned  :  nay,  methinks  I  care  not  what  I 
meet  with  in  the  way,  if  so  be  I  can  also  meet  with 
deliverance  from  my  burden. 

World.  How  earnest  thou  by  thy  burden  at 
first  ? 

Chr.  By  reading  this  book  in  my  hand. 

World.  I  thought  so ;  and  it  is  happened  unto 
thee  as  to  other  weak  men,  who,  meddling  with 
things  too  high  for  them,  do  suddenly  fall  into  thy 
distractions  ;  which  distractions  do  not  only  unman 
men,  as  thine  I  perceive  have  done  thee,  but  they 
run  them  upon  desperate  ventures,  to  obtain  they 
know  not  what. 

Chr.  I  know  what  I  would  obtain  ;  it  is  ease  from 
my  heavy  burden. 

World.  But  why  wilt  thou  seek  for  ease  this 
way,  seeing  so  many  dangers  attend  it?  especially 
since  (hadst  thou  but  patience  to  hear  me)  I  could 
direct  thee  to  the  obtaining  of  what  thou  desirest, 
without  the  dangers  that  thou  in  this  way  wilt  run 
thyself  into.  Yea,  and  the  remedy  is  at  hand.  Be- 
sides, I  will   add,   that   instead   of   those   dangers, 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  55 

thou  slialt  meet  witli  mucli  safety,  friendship,  and 
content. 

Chr.  Sir,  I  pray  open  this  secret  to  me. 

World.  Why,  in  yonder  viHage  (the  village  is 
named  Morality)  there  dwells  a  gentleman  whose 
name  is  Legality,  a  very  judicious  man,  and  a  man 
of  a  very  good  name,  that  has  skill  to  help  men  off 
witli  such  burdens  as  thine  is  from  their  shoulders  ; 
3ea,  to  my  knowledge,  he  hath  done  a  great  deal  of 
good  this  way ;  ay,  and  besides,  he  hath  skill  to 
cure  those  that  are  somewhat  crazed  in  their  wits 
with  their  burdens.  To  him,  as  I  said,  thou  mayst 
go,  and  he.  helped  presently.  His  house  is  not  quite 
a  mile  from  this  place  ;  and  if  he  should  not  be  at 
home  himself,  he  hath  a  pretty  young  man  to  his 
son,  whose  name  is  Civility,  that  can  do  it  (to  speak 
on)  as  well  as  the  old  gentleman  himself:  there,  I 
say,  thou  mayest  be  eased  of  thy  burden  ;  and  if 
thou  art  not  minded  to  go  back  to  thy  former  'labita- 
tion  (as  indeed  I  would  not  wish  thee),  thou  ma}st 
send  for  thy  wife  and  children  to  thee  to  this  village, 
where  there  are  houses  now  standing  empty,  one  of 
which  thou  mayst  have  at  a  reasonable  rate  :  pro- 
vision is  there  also  cheap  and  good  ;  and  that  which 
will  make  thy  life  the  more  happy  is,  to  be  sure  there 
thou  shalt  live  by  honest  neighbours,  in  credit  and 
good  fashion. 


56  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand ;  but 
})resentlv  he  concluded,  If  this  be  true  which  this 
gentleman  hath  said,  my  wisest  course  is  to  take  his 
advice :   and  with  that  he  thus  further  spake. 

Chr.  Sir,  which  is  my  way  to  this  honest  man's 
house  ? 

World.  Do  you  see  yonder  high  hill? 

Chr.  Yes,  very  well. 

World.  By  that  hill  you  must  go,  and  the  first 
house  you  come  at  is  his. 

So  Christian  turned  out  of  his  way  to  go  to  Mr. 
Legality's  house  for  help  :  but  behold,  when  he  was 
got  now  hard  by  the  hill,  it  seemed  so  high,  and  also 
that  side  of  it  that  was  next  the  wayside  did  hang 
so  much  over,  that  Christian  was  afraid  to  venture 
further,  lest  the  hill  should  fall  on  his  head  ;  where- 
fore thei-e  he  stood  still,  and  wist  not  what  to  do. 
Also  his  burden  now  seemed  heavier  to  him  than 
while  he  was  in  his  way.  There  came  also  flashes 
of  fire  out  of  the  hill,  that  made  Christian  afraid 
that  he  should  be  burnt  •}  here  therefore  he  did 
sweat,  and  quake  for  fear.  And  now  he  began  to  be 
sorr}'  that  he  had  taken  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman's 
counsel ;  and  with  that  he  saw  Evangelist  coming 
to  meet  him,  at  the  sight  also  of  whom  he  began  to 
blush  foi  shame.  So  Evangelist  drew  nearer  and 
^  Ex.  xix.  16-18;  Heb.  xii.  21. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  57 

nearer  ;  aiul  coaling  up  to  him,  lie  looked  upon  him 
Avith  a  severe  and  dreadful  countenance,  and  thus 
began  to  reason  with  Christian. 

What  dost  thou  here,  Christian?  said  he  :  at  which 
words  Christian  knew  not  what  to  answer ;  where- 
fore at  present  he  stood  speechless  before  him.  Then 
Said  Evangelist  further,  Art  not  thou  the  man  that  I 
found  crying  without  the  walls  of  the  city  of  De- 
struction ? 

Chh.  Yes,  dear  sir,  I  am  the  man. 

Evan.  Did  not  I  direct  thee  the  way  to  the  little 
wicket-gate .'' 

Yes,  dear  sir,  said  Christian. 

Evan.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so  quickly 
turned  aside  .^  For  thou  art  now  out  of  the 
way. 

Chr.  I  met  with  a  gentleman  so  soon  as  I  had  got 
over  the  Slougli  of  Despond,  who  persuaded  me  that 
I  might,  in  the  village  before  me,  find  a  man  that 
could  take  off  my  burden. 

EvAX.   What  was  he.'' 

Chh.  lie  looked  like  a  gentleman,  and  talked 
much  to  me,  and  got  me  at  last  to  yield;  so  I  came 
hither  ;  but  when  I  beheld  this  hill,  and  how  it  hangs 
over  the  way,  I  sud  lenly  made  a  stand,  lest  it  should 
fall  on  my  head. 

Evan.  What  said  tha*-  gentleman  to  you.-" 


SS  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  Why,  he  asked  me  whither  I  was  going; 
and  1  told  him. 

Evan.  And  what  said  he  then } 

Chr.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a  family  ;  and  I  told 
him.  But,  said  I,  I  am  so  laden  with  the  burden 
that  is  on  my  back,  that  I  cannot  take  pleasure  in 
them  as  formerly. 

Evan.  And  what  said  he  then? 

Chr.  He  bid  me  with  speed  get  rid  of  my  bur- 
den ;  and  I  told  him  it  was  ease  that  I  sought.  And, 
said  I,  I  am  therefore  going  to  yonder  gate  to  receive 
further  direction  how  I  may  get  to  the  place  of  de- 
liverance. So  he  said  that  he  would  show  me  a 
better  way,  and  short,  not  so  attended  with  difficulties 
as  the  way,  sir,  that  you  set  me  in  ;  which  way, 
said  he,  will  direct  you  to  a  gentleman's  house  that 
hath  skill  to  take  off  these  burdens :  so  I  believed 
him,  and  turned  out  of  that  way  into  this,  if  haply  I 
might  be  soon  eased  of  my  burden.  But  when  I 
came  to  this  place,  and  beheld  things  as  they  are,  I 
stopped,  for  fear,  as  I  said,  of  danger :  but  I  now 
know  not  what  to  do. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  Stand  still  a  little,  that  I 
may  show  thee  the  words  of  God.  So  he  stood 
trembling.  Then  said  Evangelist,  "  See  that  ye  re- 
fuse lot  Him  that  speaketh  :  for  if  they  escaped  not 
whd   refused  Him  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  59 

shall  not  wc  escape,  if  we  turn  away  from  Him  that 
speaketh  from  heaven."^  He  said,  moreover,  "Now 
the  just  shall  live  by  faith  ;  but  if  any  man  draw 
back,  my  soul  shall  have  no  pleasure  in  him."'-  He 
also  did  thus  apply  them  :  Thou  art  the  man  that 
art  running  into  this  misery ;  thou  hast  begun  to  re- 
ject the  counsel  of  the  Most  High,  and  to  draw  back 
thy  foot  from  the  way  of  peace,  even  almost  to  the 
hazarding  of  tky  perdition. 

Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  feet  as  dead,  cry- 
ing. Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone  !  At  the  sight  of 
which  Evangelist  caught  him  by  the  right  hand, 
saying,  "  All  manner  of  sin  and  blasphemies  shall 
be  forgiven  unto  men."  "  Be  not  faithless,  but  be- 
lieving." Then  did  Christian  again  a  little  revive, 
and  stood  up  trembling,  as  at  first,  before  Evan- 
gelist. 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying.  Give  more 
earnest  heed  to  the  things  that  I  shall  tell  thee  of. 
I  will  now  show  thee  who  it  was  that  deluded  thee, 
and  who  it  was  also  to  whom  he  sent  thee.  The 
man  that  met  thee  is  one  Worldly  Wiseman,  and 
rightly  is  he  so  called  ;  partly  because  he  savoureth 
only  of  the  doctrine  of  this  workP  (therefore  he  al- 
ways goes  to  the  town  of  Morality  to  church)  ;  and 
partly  because  he  loveth  that  doctrine  best,  for  it 
1  I  leb.  xii.  25.  2  Heb.  x.  38.  »  i  John  iv.  5. 


6o  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

saveth  him  best  from  the  cross  '}  and  because  he  is 
of  this  carnal  temper,  therefore  he  seeketh  to  pervert 
my  ways,  though  right.  Now  there  are  three  things 
in  this  man's  counsel  that  thou  must  utterly  abhor. 

I.   His  tin'ning  thee  out  of  the  way. 

3.  His  labouring  to  render  the  cross  odious  to 
thee. 

3.  And  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way  that  leadeth 
unto  the  administration  of  death. 

First,  Thou  must  abhor  his  turning  thee  out  of  die 
way  ;  yea,  and  thine  own  consenting  thereto  ;  be- 
cause this  is  to  reject  the  counsel  of  God  for  the  sake 
of  the  counsel  of  a  Worldly  Wiseman.  The  Lord 
says,  "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate,"  the  gate 
to  which  I  send  thee  ;  "  for  strait  is  the  gate  that 
leadeth  unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it."^ 
from  this  little  wicket-gate,  and  from  the  way  thereto, 
hath  this  wicked  man  turned  thee,  to  the  bringing 
of  thee  almost  to  destruction  :  hate,  therefore,  his 
turning  thee  out  of  the  way,  and  abhor  thyself  for 
hearkening  to  him. 

Secondly,  Thou  must  abhor  his  labouring  to 
render  the  cross  odious  unto  thee  ;  for  thou  art  to 
prefer  it  before  the  treasures  of  Egypt.^  Besides, 
the  King  of  glory  hath  told  thee,  that  he  that  will 
save  his  life  shall  lose  it.  And  he  that  comes  after 
^  Gal.  vi   12.     ^  Luke  xiii.  24;  Matt.  vii.  13,  14.    ^  Heb.  xi.  25,  26, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRhSS.  6i 

him,  and  hates  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and  wile, 
and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his 
own  Hfe  also,  he  cannot  be  his  disciple.^  I  say, 
therefore,  for  man  to  labour  to  persuade  thee  tliat 
that  shall  be  thy  death,  without  which,  the  truth  hath 
said,  thou  canst  not  have  eternal  life  ;  this  doctrine 
thou  must  abhor. 

Thirdly,  Thou  must  hate  this  setting  of  thy  feet  in 
the  way  that  leadeth  to  the  ministration  of  death. 
And  for  this  thou  must  consider  to  whom  he  sent 
thee,  and  also  how  unable  that  person  was  to  deliver 
thee  from  thy  burden. 

He  to  whom  thou  wast  sent  for  ease,  being  by 
name  Legality,  is  the  son  of  the  bond-woman  which 
now  is,  and  is  in  bondage  with  her  children  f  and  is, 
in  a  mystery,  this  Mount  Sinai,  which  thou  liast 
feared  will  fall  on  thy  head.  Now%  if  she  and  her 
children  are  in  bondage,  how  canst  thou  expect  by 
them  to  be  made  free  ?  This  Legality,  therefore,  is 
not  able  to  set  thee  free  from  thy  burden.  No  man 
was  as  yet  ever  rid  of  his  burden  by  him  ;  no,  nor 
ever  is  like  to  be.  Ye  cannot  be  justified  by  the 
works  of  the  law  ;  for  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  no 
man  living  can  be  rid  of  his  burden  :  therefore  Mr. 

1  Matt.  X.  37-39 ;  Mark  viii.  34,  35 ;  Luke  xiv.  26,  27 ;  John 
xii.  25. 

2  Gal.  iv.  21-27. 


63  THE  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

Worldly  Wiseman  is  an  alien,  and  Mr.  Legality  is  a 
cheat ;  and  for  his  son  Civility,  notwithstanding  his 
simpering  looks,  he  is  but  a  hypociite,  and  cannot 
help  thee.  Believe  me,  there  is  nothing  in  all  this 
noise  that  thou  hast  heard  of  these  sottish  men,  but 
a  design  to  beguile  thee  of  thy  salvation,  by  turning 
thee  from  the  way  in  which  I  had  set  thee.  After 
this,  Evangelist  called  aloud  to  the  heavens  for  con- 
firmation of  what  he  had  said :  and  with  that  there 
came  words  and  fire  out  of  the  mountain  under 
which  poor  Christian  stood,  that  made  the  hair  of 
his  flesh  stand  up.  The  words  were  thus  pro- 
nounced :  "As  many  as  ai'e  of  the  works  of  the  law 
are  under  the  cvu'se  ;  for  it  is  written.  Cursed  is  every 
one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  whicli  are  writ- 
ten in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them.''^ 

Now  Christian  looked  for  nothing  but  death,  and 
began  to  cry  out  lamentably  ;  even  cursing  the  time 
in  which  he  met  with  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman  ;  still 
calling  himself  a  thousand  fools  for  hearkening  to 
his  counsel.  He  also  was  greatly  ashamed  to  thinit 
that  this  gentleman's  arguments,  flowing  only  from 
the  flesh,  should  have  the  prevalency  with  him  so 
far  as  to  cause  him  to  forsake  the  right  way.  This 
done,  he  applied  himself  again  to  Evargelist  in 
v/ords  and  sense  as  follows. 

1  Gal.  iii.  lo. 


Cliristiau  got  up  to  the  Gat»;. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  63 

Ciiu.  Sir,  what  think  you,  is  there  any  hope? 
May  I  now  go  back,  and  go  up  to  tlie  wicket-gate? 
Shall  I  not  be  abandoned  for  this,  and  sent  back 
from  thence  ashamed?  I  am  sorry  I  have  heark- 
ened to  this  man's  counsel :  but  may  my  sin  be  for- 
given ? 

Then  said  Evangelist  to  him,  Thy  sin  is  very 
great,  for  by  it  thou  hast  committed  two  evils  ;  thou 
hast  forsaken  the  way  that  is  good,  to  tread  in  for- 
bidden paths.  Yet  will  the  man  at  the  gate  receive 
thee,  for  he  has  good-zvill  for  men  ;  only,  said  he, 
take  heed  that  thou  turn  not  aside  again,  "  lest  thou 
perish  from  the  way,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but 
a  little." ' 

Then  did  Christian  address  himself  to  go  back  ; 
and  Evangelist,  after  he  had  kissed  him,  gave  him 
one  smile,  and  bid  him  God  speed.  So  he  went  on 
with  haste,  neither  spake  he  to  any  man  by  the  way  ; 
nor  if  any  man  asked  him,  would  he  vouchsafe  them 
an  answer.  He  went  like  one  that  was  all  the  while 
treading  on  forbidden  ground,  and  could  by  no 
moans  think  himself  safe  till  again  he  was  got  into 
the  way  which  he  had  left  to  follow  Mr.  Worldly 
W'isemaii's  counsel.  So  in  process  of  time  Chris- 
tian got  up  to  the  gate.  Now  over  the  gate  there  was 
written,  "  Knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you."' 
1  Ps.  ii.  12.  2  Matt.  vii.  8. 


64  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

He  knocked,  therefore,  more  than  once  or  twice 
saying, 

"  May  I  now  enter  here  ?     Will  he  within 
Open  to  sorry  me,  though  I  have  been 
An  undeserving  rebel  ?     Then  shall  I 
Not  fail  to  sing  his  lasting  praise  on  high." 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  person  to  the  gate, 
named  Good-will,  who  asked  who  was  there?  and 
whence  he  came?  and  what  he  would  have? 

Chr.  Here  is  a  poor,  burdened  sinner.  I  come 
from  the  city  of  Destruction,  but  am  going  to  Mount 
Zion,  that  I  may  be  delivered  from  the  wrath  to 
come.  I  w^ould,  therefore,  sir,  since  I  am  informed 
that  by  this  gate  is  the  way  thither,  know  if  you  are 
willing  to  let  me  in. 

I  am  willing  with  all  my  heart,  said  he  ;  and  with 
that  he  opened  the  gate. 

So  when  Christian  was  stepping  in,  the  other  gave 
him  a  pull.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means 
that?  The  other  told  him,  A  little  distance  from 
this  gate  there  is  erected  a  strong  castle,  of  which 
Beelzebub  is  the  captain  :  from  thence  both  he,  and 
they  that  are  with  him,  shoot  arrows  at  those  that 
come  up  to  this  gate,  if  haply  they  may  die  before 
they  can  enter  in. 

Then   said   Christian,  I  rejoice   and  tremble.     So 


THE  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS.  65 

when  he  was  got  in,  the  man  at  the  gate  asked  him, 
who  directed  him  thither? 

Chr.  EvangeHst  bid  me  come  hither  and  knock, 
as  I  did  ;  and  he  said,  that  you,  sir,  would  tell  me 
what  I  must  do. 

Good.  An  open  door  is  set  before  thee,  and  no 
man  can  shut  it. 

Chr.  Now  I  begin  to  reap  the  benefit  of  my 
hazards. 

Good.  But  how  is  it  that  you  came  alone  ? 

Chr.  Because  none  of  my  neighbours  saw  their 
danger,  as  I  saw  mine. 

Good.  Did  any  of  them  know  of  your  coming.'* 

Chr.  Yes,  my  wife  and  children  saw  me  at  the 
first,  and  called  after  me  to  return  again  :  also  some 
of  my  neighbours  stood  crying,  and  calling  after  me 
to  return  ;  but  I  put  my  fingers  in  my  ears,  and  so 
came  on  my  way. 

Good.  But  did  none  of  them  follow  you,  to  per- 
suade yor.  to  go  back  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  both  Obstinate  and  Pliable :  but  when 
they  saw  that  they  could  not  prevail.  Obstinate  went 
railing  back,  but  Pliable  came  with  me  a  little 
way. 

Good.  But  why  did  he  not  come  through  ? 

Chr.  We  indeed  came  both  together,  until  we 
came  to  the   Slough  of  Despond,  into  the  which  we 


66  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

also  suddenly  fell.  And  then  was  my  neighbour 
Pliable  discouraged,  and  would  not  adventure  fur- 
ther. Wherefore,  getting  out  again  on  the  side  next 
to  his  own  house,  he  told  me,  I  should  possess  the 
brave  country  alone  for  him  :  so  he  went  his  way, 
and  I  came  mine:  he  after  Obstinate,  and  I  to  this 

Then  said  Good-will,  Alas,  poor  man  !  is  the  ce- 
lestial glory  of  so  little  esteem  with  him,  that  he 
counteth  it  not  worth  running  the  hazard  of  a  few 
difficulties  to  obtain  it? 

Truly,  said  Christian,  I  have  said  the  truth  of  Pli- 
able, and  if  I  should  also  say  all  the  truth  of  myself, 
it  would  appear  there  is  no  betterment  betwixt  him 
and  myself.  It  is  true,  he  went  back  to  his  own 
house,  but  I  also  turned  aside  to  go  into  the  way  of 
death,  being  persuaded  thereto  by  the  carnal  argu- 
ment of  one  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman. 

Good.  Oh,  did  he  light  upon  you?  What,  he 
would  have  had  you  seek  for  ease  at  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Legality  !  they  are  both  of  them  a  very  cheat. 
But  did  you  take  his  counsel? 

Chr.  Yes,  as  far  as  I  durst.  I  went  to  find 
out  Mr.  Legality,  until  I  thought  that  the  moun- 
tain that  stands  by  his  house  would  have  fallen 
upon  my  head ;  wherefore  there  war  I  forced  to 
stop. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  67 

Good.  That  mountain  has  been  the  dcatli  of 
many,  and  will  be  the  death  of  many  more :  it  is 
well  you  escaped  being  by  it  dashed  in  pieces. 

CiiR.  Why,  truly,  I  do  not  know  what  had  be- 
come of  me  there,  had  not  Evangelist  happily  met 
me  again  as  I  was  musing  in  the  midst  of  my  dumps  : 
but  it  was  God's  mercy  that  he  came  to  me  again, 
for  else  I  had  never  come  hither.  But  now  I  am 
come,  such  a  one  as  I  am,  more  fit  indeed  for  death 
by  that  mountain,  than  thus  to  stand  talking  with  my 
Lord.  But,  oh  !  what  a  favour  is  this  to  me,  that 
yet  I  am  admitted  entrance  here. 

Good.  We  make  no  objections  against  any,  not- 
withstanding all  that  they  have  done  before  they 
come  hither;  they  in  no  wise  are  cast  out.^  And 
therefore,  good  Christian,  come  a  little  way  with 
me,  and  I  will  teach  thee  about  the  way  thou  must 
go.  Look  before  thee  ;  dost  thou  see  this  narrow 
way.?  that  is  the  way  thou  must  go.  It  was  cast  up 
by  the  patriarchs,  prophets,  Christ,  and  his  apostles, 
aud  it  is  as  straight  as  a  rule  can  make  it :  this  is 
the  way  thou  must  go. 

But,  said  Christian,  are  there  no  turnings  nor 
windings,  by  which  a  stranger  may  lose  his  way.-* 

Good.  Yes,  there  are  many  ways  butt  down  upon 
this,  and  they  are  crooked  and  wide  :  but  thus  thou 
1  John  vi.  37. 


68  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

mayest  distinguish  the  right  from  the  wrong,  the 
right  only  being  straight  and  narrow.^ 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  asked 
him  further,  if  he  could  not  help  him  off  with  his 
burden  that  was  upon  his  back,  for  as  yet  he  had  not 
got  rid  thereof,  nor  could  he  by  any  means  get  it  off 
without  help. 

He  told  him.  As  to  thy  burden,  be  content  to  bear 
it  until  thou  comest  to  the  place  of  deliverance  ;  for 
there  it  will  fall  from  thy  back  of  itself. 

Then  Christ/an  began  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to 
address  himself  to  his  journey.  So  the  other  told 
him,  that  by  that  he  was  gone  some  distance  from 
the  gate,  he  would  come  at  the  house  of  the  Inter- 
preter, at  whose  door  he  should  knock,  and  he 
would  show  him  excellent  things.  Then  Christian 
took  his  leave  of  his  friend,  and  he  again  bid  him 
God  speed. 

Then  he  went  on,  till  he  came  at  the  house  of  the 
Interpreter,  where  he  knocked  over  and  over.  At 
last  one  came  to  the  door,  and  asked  who  was  there. 

Chr.  Sir,  here  is  a  traveller,  who  was  bid  by  an 
acquaintance  of  the  good  man  of  this  house  to  call 
here  for  my  profit ;  I  would  therefore  speak  with  the 
master  of  the  house. 

So  he  called  for  the  master  of  the  house,  who, 
1  Matt.  vii.  14. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  69 

after  a  little  time,  came  to  Christian,  and  asked  him 
what  he  would  have. 

Sii,  said  Christian,  I  am  a  man  that  am  come 
from  the  city  of  Destruction,  and  am  going  to  the 
[Mount  Zion  ;  and  I  was  told  by  the  man  that  stands 
at  the  gate  at  the  head  of  this  way,  that,  if  I  called 
here,  you  would  show  me  excellent  things,  such  as 
would  be  helpful  to  me  on  my  journey. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Come  in  ;  I  will  show 
thee  that  which  will  be  profitable  to  thee.  So  he 
commanded  his  man  to  light  the  candle,  and  bid 
Christian  follow  him  ;  so  he  had  him  into  a  private 
room,  and  bid  his  man  open  a  door ;  the  which 
when  he  had  done.  Christian  saw  the  picture  of  a 
very  grave  person  hang  up  against  the  wall ;  and 
this  was  the  fashion  of  it :  he  had  eyes  lifted  up  to 
heaven,  the  best  of  books  in  his  hand,  the  law  of 
truth  was  written  upon  his  lips,  the  world  was  be- 
liind  his  back  ;  he  stood  as  if  he  pleaded  with  men, 
and  a  crown  of  gold  did  hang  over  his  head. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth  this? 

Inter.  The  man  whose  picture  this  is,  is  one  of  a 
thousand  ;  he  can  beget  children,^  travail  in  birth 
with  children,^  and  nurse  them  himself  when  they 
are  born.  And  whereas  thou  seest  him  \vith  his 
eyes  lift  up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in  his  hand, 
1  I  Cor.  iv.  15,  2  Qai  jy   ig 


70  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  the  law  of  truth  writ  on  his  lips  :  it  is  to  show 
thee,  that  his  work  is  to  know  and  unfold  dark  things 
to  sinners;  even  as  also  thou  seest  him  stand  as  if 
he  pleaded  with  men :  and  whereas  thou  seest  the 
world  as  cast  behind  him,  and  that  a  crown  hangs 
over  his  head  ;  that  is  to  show  thee,  that  slighting 
and  despising  the  things  that  are  present  for  the  love 
that  he  hath  to  his  Master's  service,  he  is  sure  in  the 
world  that  comes  next,  to  have  glory  for  his  reward. 
Now,  said  the  Interpreter,  I  have  showed  thee  this 
picture  first,  because  the  man  whose  picture  this  is, 
is  the  only  man  whom  the  Lord  of  the  place  whither 
thou  art  going  hath  authorized  to  be  thy  guide  in  all 
difficult  places  thou  mayest  meet  with  in  the  way. 
Wherefore  take  good  heed  to  what  I  have  showed 
thee,  and  bear  well  in  thy  mind  what  thou  hast  seen  ; 
lest  in  th}^  journey  thou  meet  with  some  that  pretend 
to  lead  thee  right,  but  their  way  goes  down  to 
death. 

Then  he  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into 
a  very  large  pai'lour,  that  was  full  of  dust,  because 
never  swept ;  the  which  after  he  had  reviewed  a 
little  while,  the  Interpi-eter  called  for  a  man  to 
sweep.  Now,  when  he  began  to  sweep,  the  dust 
began  so  abundantly  to  fly  about,  that  Christian  had 
almost  therewith  been  choked.  Then  said  the  lu- 
te preter  to  a  damsel  that  stood    by.   Bring   hither 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  71 

water,  a'-'d  sprinkle  the  room ;  the  which  when 
she  had  done,  it  was  swept  and  cleansed  with 
pleasure. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this? 

The  Interpreter  answered.  This  parlour  is  the 
heart  of  a  man  that  was  never  sanctified  by  the  sweet 
grace  of  the  gospel :  the  dust  is  his  original  sin,  and 
inward  corruptions  that  have  defiled  the  whole  man. 
He  that  began  to  sweep  at  first  is  the  law  ;  but  she 
that  brought  water,  and  did  sprinkle  it,  is  the  gospel. 
Now,  whereas  thou  sawest  that  so  soon  as  the  first 
began  to  sweep,  the  dust  did  so  fly  about,  that  the 
room  by  him  could  not  be  cleansed,  but  that  thou 
wast  almost  choked  therewith  ;  this  is  to  show  thee, 
that  the  law,  instead  of  cleansing  the  heart  (by  its 
working)  from  sin,  doth  revive,  put  strength  into, 
and  increase  it  in  the  soul,  even  as  it  doth  discov- 
er and  forbid  it ;  for  it  doth  not  give  power  to 
subdue.^ 

Again,  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel  sprinkle  the 
room  with  water,  upon  which  it  was  cleansed  with 
pleasure  ;  this  is  to  show  thee,  that  when  the  gospel 
comes  in  the  sweet  and  precious  influences  thereof 
to  the  heart,  then,  I  say,  even  as  thou  sawest  the 
damsel  lay  the  dust  by  sprinkling  the  floor  with 
water,  so  is  sin  vanquished  and  subdued,  and  the 
1  Rom.  V.  20 ;  vii.  7-1 1  ;  i  Cor.  xv.  56. 


72  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

soul  made  clean,  through  the  faith  of  it,  and  conse- 
quently fit  for  the  King  of  glory  to  inhabit.^ 

I  saw  moreover  in  my  dream,  that  the  Interpreter 
took  him  by  the  hand,  and  had  him  into  a  little 
room,  where  sat  two  little  children,  each  one  in  his 
chair.  The  name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion.,  and 
the  name  of  the  other  Patietice.  Passion  seemed 
to  be  much  discontented,  but  Patience  was  very 
quiet.  Then  Christian  asked,  What  is  the  reason 
of  the  discontent  of  Passion }  The  Interpreter  an- 
swered, The  governor  of  them  would  have  him  stay 
for  his  best  things  till  the  beginning  of  the  next 
year  ;  but  he  will  have  all  now.  But  Patience  is 
willing  to  wait. 

Then  I  saw  that  one  came  to  Passion,  and  brought 
him  a  bag  of  treasure,  and  poured  it  down  at  his 
feet:  the  which  he  took  up,  and  rejoiced  therein,  and 
withal  laughed  Patience  to  scorn.  But  I  beheld  but 
a  while,  and  he  had  lavished  all  away,  and  ha  ^ 
nothing  left  him  but  rags. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  Expound 
this  matter  more  fully  to  me. 

So  he  said,  These  two  lads  are  figures.  Passion 
of  the  men  of  this  world,  and  Patience  of  the  men 
of  that  which   is  to  come :  for,  as  here  thou   seest, 

J  John  xiv.  21-23  ;  -"^v.  3  ;  Acts  xv.  9 ;  Rom.  xvi.  25,  26  ;  Eph. 
V.  26. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  73 

Passion  will  have  all  now,  this  year,  that  is  to  say, 
in  this  world  ;  so  are  the  men  of  this  world  :  they 
must  liave  all  their  good  things  now  ;  they  cannot 
stay  till  the  next  year,  that  is,  mitil  the  next  world, 
for  their  portion  of  good.  That  proverb,  '•  A  bird 
in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush,"  is  of  more 
authority  with  them,  than  are  all  the  divine  testimo- 
nies of  the  good  of  the  world  to  come.  But  as  thou 
sawest  that  he  had  quickly  lavished  all  away,  and 
had  presently  left  him  nothing  but  rags  ;  so  will  it 
be  with  all  such  men  at  the  end  of  this  world. 

Then  said  Christian,  Now  I  see  that  Patience  has 
the  best  wisdom,  and  that  upon  many  accounts. 
I.  Because  he  stays  for  the  best  things.  3.  And 
also  because  he  will  have  the  glory  of  his,  when  the 
other  has  nothing  but  rags. 

Inter.  Nay,  you  may  add  another,  to  wit,  the 
glory  of  the  next  world  will  never  wear  out :  but 
these  are  suddenly  gone.  Therefore  Passion  had 
not  so  much  reason  to  laugh  at  Patience,  because  he 
had  his  good  things  first,  as  Patience  will  have  t(? 
laugh  at  Passion,  because  he  had  his  best  things  last ; 
for  first  must  give  place  to  last,  because  last  must 
have  his  time  to  come  :  but  last  gives  place  to  noth- 
ing, for  there  is  not  another  to  succeed.  He,  there- 
fore, that  hath  his  portion  first,  must  needs  have  a 
time  to  s)end  it ;   but   he   that   hath   his  portion   last, 


74  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

must  have  it  lastingly  :  therefore  it  is  said  of  Dives, 
''  In  thy  lifetime  thou  receiv^edst  thy  good  things, 
and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things ;  but  now  he  is 
comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented."^ 

Chr.  Then  I  jDerceive  it  is  not  best  to  covet  things 
that  are  now,  but  to  wait  for  things  to  come. 

Inter.  You  say  truth,  for  the  things  that  are  seen 
are  temporal,  but  the  things  that  are  not  seen  are 
eternal.^  But  though  this  be  so,  yet  since  things 
present  and  our  fleshly  appetite  are  such  near  neigh- 
bours one  to  another ;  and  again,  because  things  to 
come  and  carnal  sense  are  such  strangers  one  to  an- 
other ;  therefore  it  is,  that  the  first  of  these  so  sud- 
denly fall  into  amity,  and  that  distance  is  so  con- 
tinued between  the  second. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  Interpreter 
took  Christian  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  place 
where  was  a  fire  burning  against  a  wall,  and  one 
standing  by  it,  always  casting  much  water  upon  it  to 
quench  it :  yet  did  the  fire  burn  higher  and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this.'' 

The  Interpreter  answered.  This  fire  is  the  work 

of  grace  that  is  wrought  in  the  heart ;  he  that  casts 

water  upon  it,  to  extinguish  and  put  it  out,  is  the 

devil :  but  in  that  thou  seest  the  fire,  notwithstand- 

ng,  burn   higher  and   hotter,  thou   shalt  also  see  the 

'  Luke  xvi.  19-31.  ^  2  Cor.  iv.  18. 


THE    PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  75 

rcrson  of  that.  So  he  had  him  about  to  the  back 
side  of  the  wall,  where  he  saw  a  man  with  a  vessel 
of  oil  in  his  hand,  of  the  which  he  did  also  continu- 
ally cast  (but  secretly)  into  the  fire. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this.'' 

The  Interpreter  answered,  This  is  Christ,  who 
continually,  with  the  oil  of  his  grace,  maintains  the 
work  already  begun  in  the  heart ;  by  the  means  of 
which,  notwithstanding  what  the  devil  can  do,  the 
souls  of  his  people  prove  gracious  still. ^  And  in 
that  thou  sawest,  that  the  man  stood  behind  the  wall 
to  maintain  the  fire  ;  this  is  to  teach  thee,  that  it  is 
hard  for  the  tempted  to  see  how  this  work  of  grace 
is  maintained  in  the  soul. 

I  saw  also  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  again  by 
the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  pleasant  place,  where 
was  built  a  stately  palace,  beautiful  to  behold,  at  the 
sight  of  which  Christian  was  greatly  delighted  ;  he 
saw  also  upon  the  top  thereof  certain  persons  walk- 
ing, who  were  clothed  all  in  gold. 

Then  said  Christian,  May  we  go  in  thither.? 

Then  the  Interpreter  took  him,  and  led  him  up 
toward  the  door  of  the  palace  ;  and  behold,  at  the 
door  stood  a  great  company  of  men,  as  desirous  to 
go  in,  bit  durst  not.  There  also  sat  a  man  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  door,  at  a  table-side,  with  a  book 
'  2  Cor.  xii.  9. 


76  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  his  ink-horn  before  him,  to  take  the  names  of 
them  that  should  enter  therein  ;  he  saw  also  that  in 
the  doorway  stood  many  men  in  armour  to  keep  it, 
being  resolved  to  do  to  the  men  that  would  enter 
what  hurt  and  mischief  they  could.  Now  was 
Christian  somewhat  in  amaze.  At  last,  when  every 
man  started  back  for  fear  of  the  armed  men,  Chris- 
tian saw  a  man  of  a  very  stout  countenance  come  up 
to  the  man  that  sat  there  to  write,  saying.  Set  down 
my  name,  sir  ;  the  which  when  he  had  done,  he  saw 
the  man  draw  his  sword,  and  put  a  helmet  upon  his 
head,  and  rush  toward  the  door  upon  the  armed 
men,  who  laid  upon  him  with  deadly  force  ;  but  the 
man,  not  at  all  discouraged,  fell  to  cutting  and  hack- 
ing most  fiercely.  So  after  he  had  received  and 
given  many  wounds  to  those  that  attempted  to  keep 
him  out,  he  cut  his  way  through  them  all,  and 
pressed  forward  into  the  palace  ;  at  which  there  was 
a  pleasant  voice  heard  from  those  that  were  within, 
even  those  that  walked  upon  the  top  of  the  palace, 
saying, 

"  Come  in,  come  in  ; 
Eternal  glory  thou  shalt  win." 

So  he  went  in,  aiil  was  clothed  with  such  garments 
as  they.  Then  Christian  smiled,  and  said,  I  think 
verily  I  know  the  meaning  of  this. 


THE  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS.  77 

Now,  said  Christian,  let  me  go  hence.  Nay,  stay, 
said  the  Interpreter,  till  I  have  showed  thee  a  little 
more,  and  after  that  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way.  So 
he  took  him  by  the  hand  again,  and  led  him  into  a 
very  dark  room,  where  there  sat  a  man  in  an  iron 
cage. 

Now  the  man,  to  look  on,  seemed  very  sad  :  he 
sat  with  his  eyes  looking  down  to  the  ground,  his 
hands  folded  together  ;  and  he  sighed  as  if  he  would 
break  his  lieart.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means 
this?  At  which  the  Interpreter  bid  him  talk  with 
the  man. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  man,  What  art  thou. ^ 
The  man  answered,  I  am  what  I  was  not  once. 

Chr.  What  wast  thou  once? 

The  man  said,  I  was  once  a  fair  and  flourishing 
professor,  both  in  mine  own  eyes,  and  also  in  the 
eyes  of  others :  I  once  was,  as  I  thought,  fair  for  the 
celestial  city,  and  had  then  even  joy  at  the  thoughts 
that  I  should  get  thither.^ 

Chr.  W^ell,  but  what  art  thou  now? 

!Max.  I  am  now  a  man  of  despair,  and  am  shut 
up  in  it,  as  in  this  iron  cage.  I  cannot  get  out.  Oh 
now  I  cannot ! 

Chr.  But  how  earnest  thou  into  this  condition? 

Man.  I  left  off  to  watch  and  be  sober ;  I  la"d  the 
'  Luke  viii.  13. 


78  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

reins  upon  the  neck  of  my  lusts  ;  I  sinned  against 
the  light  of  the  word,  and  the  goodness  of  God  ;  1 
have  grieved  the  Spirit,  and  he  is  gone  ;  I  tempted 
the  devil,  and  he  is  come  to  me  ;  I  have  provoked 
God  to  anger,  and  he  has  left  me :  I  have  so  hard- 
ened my  heart  that  I  cannot  repent. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  But  is  there 
no  hope  for  such  a  man  as  this?  Ask  him,  said  the 
Interpreter. 

Then  said  Christian,  Is  there  no  hope,  but  you 
must  be  kept  in  the  iron  cage  of  despair? 

Man.  No,  none  at  all. 

Chr.  Why?  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  is  very 
pitiful. 

Man.  I  have  crucified  him  to  myself  afresh  ;  I 
have  despised  his  person,  I  have  despised  his  right- 
eousness, I  have  counted  his  blood  an  unholy  thing  ; 
I  have  done  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace  •}  therefore 
I  have  shut  myself  out  of  all  the  promises,  and  there 
now  remains  to  me  nothing  but  threatenings,  dread- 
ful threatenings,  faithful  threatenings,  of  certain 
judgment  and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour 
me  as  an  adversary. 

Chr.  For  what  did  you  bring  yourself  into  this 
condition  ? 

Man.  For  the  lusts,  pleasures,  and  profits  of  this 
1  Luke  xix.   14 ;  Heb.  vi.  4-6 ;  x.  28,  29. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  79 

world ;  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  I  did  then 
promise  myself  much  delight:  but  now  everyone 
of  those  things  also  bite  me,  and  gnaw  me  like  a 
burning  worm. 

Chr.  But  canst  thou  not  now  repent  and  turn  ? 

Man.  God  hath  denied  me  repentance.  His  word 
gives  me  no  encouragement  to  believe  ;  yea,  himself 
hath  shut  me  up  in  tliis  iron  cage  :  nor  can  all  the 
men  in  the  world  let  me  out.  O  eternity  !  eternity  ! 
how  shall  I  grapple  with  the  misery  that  I  must  meet 
with  in  eternity? 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Let  this 
man's  misery  be  remembered  by  thee,  and  be  an 
everlasting  caution  to  thee. 

Well,  said  Christian,  this  is  fearful !  God  help  me 
to  watch  and  be  sober,  and  to  pray  that  I  may  shun 
the  cause  of  this  man's  misery.  Sir,  is  it  not  time 
for  me  to  go  on  my  way  now .'' 

Inter.  Tarry  till  I  shall  show  thee  one  thing 
more,  and  then  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way. 

So  he  took  Christian  by  the  hand  again,  and  led 
him  into  a  chamber,  where  there  was  one  rising  out 
of  bed ;  and  as  he  put  on  his  raiment,  he  shook  and 
trembled.  Then  said  Christian,  Why  doth  this  man 
thus  tremble?  The  Interpreter  then  bid  him  tell  to 
Christian  the  reason  of  his  so  doing. 

So  he  began,  and  said,  This  night,  as  I  was  in  my 


8o.  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

sleep,  I  dreamed,  and  behold  the  heavens  grew  ex- 
ceeding black :  also  it  thundered  and  lightened  in 
most  fearful  wise,  that  it  put  me  into  an  agony.  So 
I  looked  up  in  my  dream,  and  saw  the  clouds  rack 
at  an  unusual  rate  ;  upon  which  I  heard  a  great 
sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  saw  also  a  man  sitting  upon 
a  cloud,  attended  with  the  thousands  of  heaven : 
they  were  all  in  flaming  fire,  also  the  heavens  were 
on  a  burning  flame.  I  heard  then  a  voice,  saying, 
"  Arise,  ye  dead,  and  come  to  judgment ;"  and  with 
that  the  rocks  rent,  the  graves  opened,  and  the  dead 
that  wei'e  therein  came  forth.^  Some  of  them  were 
exceeding  glad,  and  looked  upward ;  and  some 
sought  to  hide  themselves  under  the  mountains  '^ 
then  I  saw  the  man  that  sat  upon  the  cloud  ojoen  the 
book,  and  bid  the  world  draw  near.  Yet  there  was, 
by  reason  of  a  fierce  flame  that  issued  out  and  came 
from  before  him,  a  convenient  distance  betwixt  him 
and  them,  as  betwixt  the  judge  and  the  prisoners  at 
the  bar.*  I  heard  it  also  proclaimed  to  them  that 
attended  on  the  man  that  sat  on  the  cloud,  "  Gather 
together  the  tares,  the  chaff,  and  stubble,  and  cast 
them  into  the  burning  lake  ;"  and  with   that  the  bot- 

1  John  V.  28,  29;  I  Cor.  xv.  51-58;  2  Thess.  i.  7-10;  Jude  14, 
15  ;  Rev.  XX.  11-15. 

2  Ps.  i.  1-3,  22 ;  Isa.  xxvi.  20,  21  ;  Mic.  vii.  16,  17. 
2  Dan.  vii.  9,  10 ;  Mai.  iii.  2,  3. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  8l 

tomless  pit  opened,  just  whereabout  I  stood,  out  of 
the  mouth  of  which  there  came,  in  an  abundant 
manner,  sn-ioI<e  and  coals  of  fire,  with  hideous 
noises.  It  was  also  said  to  the  same  persons, 
"Gather  my  wheat  into  the  garner."'  And  witli 
that  I  saw  many  catched  up  and  carried  away  into 
the  clouds,^  but  I  was  left  behind.  I  also  sought  to 
hide  myself,  but  I  could  not,  for  the  Man  that  sat 
upon  the  cloud  still  kept  his  eye  upon  me  :  my  sins 
also  came  into  my  mind,  and  my  conscience  did  ac- 
cuse me  on  every  side.^  Upon  this  I  awoke  from 
my  sleep. 

Chr.  But  what  was  it  that  made  you  so  afraid  of 
this  sight.'' 

I^Ian.  Why,  I  thought  that  the  day  of  judgment 
was  come,  and  that  I  was  not  ready  for  it:  but  tliis 
frightened  me  most,  that  the  angels  gathered  up 
several,  and  left  me  behind ;  also  the  pit  of  hell 
opened  her  mouth  just  where  I  stood  :  my  conscience 
too  afflicted  me  ;  and,  as  I  thought,  the  Judge  had 
always  his  eye  upon  me,  showing  indignatio-i  in  his 
countenance. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Ilast  thou 
considered  all  these  things.? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  they  put  me  in  hope  and  fear. 

1  Mai.  iv.  2;  Matt.  iil.  12;  xiii.  30;  Luke  iii.  17. 

2  I  The-s.  iv.  13-18.  s  Ro^  jj   i^_  j^ 


P 


82  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

IxTER.  Well,  keep  all  things  so  in  thy  mind,  that 
they  may  be  as  a  goad  in  thy  sides,  to  prick  thee  for- 
ward in  the  way  thou  must  go.  Then  Christian  be- 
gan to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to  address  himself  to 
his  journey.  Then  said  the  Interpreter,  The  Com- 
forter be  always  with  thee,  good  Christian,  to  guide 
thee  in  the  way  that  leads  to  the  city.  So  Christian 
went  on  his  way,  saying, 

"  Here  I  have  seen  things  rare  and  profitable, 
Things  pleasant,  dreadful,  things  to  make  me  stable 
In  what  I  have  begun  to  take  in  hand ; 
Then  let  me  think  on  them  and  understand 
Wherefore  they  showed  me  were,  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,  O  good  Interpreter,  to  thee." 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  highway  up 
which  Christian  was  to  go,  was  fenced  on  either  side 
with  a  wall,  and  that  wall  was  called  Salvation.' 
Up  this  way,  therefore,  did  burdened  Christian  run, 
but  not  without  great  difficulty,  because  of  the  load 
on  his  back. 

He  ran  thus  till  he  came  at  a  place  somewhat  as- 
cending ;  and  upon  that  place  stood  a  Cross,  and  a 
little  below,  in  the  bottom,  a  sepulchre.  So  I  saw 
in  my  dream,  that  just  as  Christian  came  up  with 
the  Cross,  his  burden  loosed  from  off  his  shoulders, 
and  fe'l  fron-  off  his  back,  and  began  to  tumble,  and 
1  Isa.  xxvi.  I. 


THE    PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  S3 

so  coiitiiuicd   to  do,  till    it  came  to  the    mouth  of  the 
sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in  and  I  saw  it  no  more. 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome,  and  said 
with  a  merry  heart,  He  hath  given  me  rest  by  his 
sorrow,  and  life  by  his  death.  Then  he  stood  still 
a  while,  to  look  and  wonder,  for  it  was  very  surpris- 
ing to  him  that  the  sight  of  the  Cross  should  thus 
ease  him  of  his  burden.  He  looked,  therefore,  and 
looked  again,  even  till  the  springs  that  were  in  his 
head  sent  the  waters  down  his  cheeks.^  Now  as  he 
stood  looking  and  weeping,  behold,  three  shining 
ones  came  to  him,  and  saluted  him  with,  "  Peace  be 
to  thee  :"  so  the  first  said  to  him,  "  Thy  sins  be  for- 
given thee;"'"  the  second  stripped  him  of  his  rags, 
and  clothed  him  with  change  of  raiment ;  the  third 
also  set  a  mark  on  his  forehead,  and  gave  him  a  roll 
with  a  seal  upon  it,^  which  he  bid  him  look  on  as  he 
ran,  and  that  he  should  give  it  in  at  the  celestial 
gate  :  so  they  went  their  way.  Then  Christian  gave 
three  leaps  for  joy,  and  went  on  singing, 

"  Thus  far  did  I  come  laden  with  my  sin, 
Nor  could  aught  ease  the  grief  that  I  was  in, 
Till  I  came  hither.     What  a  place  is  this  ! 
Must  here  be  the  beginning  of  my  bliss  ? 
Must  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back  ? 
Must  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me  crack  ? 

1  Zech.  xii.  iC.         ^  Mark  ii.  5.         '  Zech.  iii.  4     Eph.  i.  13 


84  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Blest  cross  !   olest  sepulchre  !  blest  rather  be 
The  Man  that  there  was  put  to  shame  for  me  .'" 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  he  went  on  thus, 
e\en  until  he  came  at  a  bottom,  where  he  saw,  a 
little  out  of  the  way,  three  men  fast  asleep,  with 
fetters  upon  their  heels.  The  name  of  the  one  was 
Simple,  another  Sloth,  and  the  third  Presumption. 

Christian  then  seeing  them  lie  in  this  case,  went 
to  them,  if  peradventure  he  might  awake  them,  and 
cried,  You  are  like  them  that  sleep  on  the  top  of  a 
mast,^  for  the  Dead  Sea  is  under  you,  a  gulf  that 
hath  no  bottom  :  awake,  therefore,  and  come  awav  : 
be  willing  also,  and  I  will  help  you  oft'  with  your 
irons.  He  also  told  them.  If  he  that  goeth  about 
like  a  roaring  lion  comes  by,  you  will  certainly  be- 
come a  pre}'  to  his  teeth. ^  With  that  they  looked 
upon  him,  and  began  to  reply  in  this  sort :  Simple 
said,  I  see  no  danger.  Sloth  said,  Yet  a  little  more 
sleep.  And  Presumption  said.  Every  tub  must  stand 
upon  its  own  bottom.  And  so  they  lay  down  to 
sleep  again,  and  Christian  went  on  his  way. 

Yet  he  was  troubled  to  think  that  men  in  that 
danger  should  so  little  esteem  the  kindness  of  him 
that  so  freely  offered  to  help  them,  both  by  awaken- 
ing of  them,  counselling  of  them,  and  proffering  to 
help  them  off  with  their  irons.  And  as  he  was 
1  Pre  v.  xxiii.  34.  -  i  Pet.  v.  8. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  85 

troubled  thereabout,  he  espied  two  men  come  tum- 
bling over  the  wall,  on  the  left  hand  of  the  narrow 
way  ;  and  they  made  up  apace  to  him.  The  name 
of  the  one  was  Formalist,  and  the  name  of  the 
other  Hypocrisy.  So,  as  I  said,  they  drew  up  untc 
him,  who  thus  entered  with  them  into  discourse. 

Chr.  Gentlemen,  whence  came  jou,  and  whither 
do  you  go  ? 

Form,  and  Hyp.  We  were  born  in  the  land  of 
Vainglory,  and  are  going  for  praise  to  Mount  Zion. 

CiiR.  Why  came  you  not  in  at  the  gate  wliici 
standeth  at  the  beginning  of  the  way?  Know  ye 
not  that  it  is  written,  that  "  he  that  cometli  not  in  by 
the  door,  but  climbeth  up  some  other  way,  the  same 
is  a  thief  and  a  robber?"^ 

They  said,  That  to  go  to  the  gate  for  entrance  was 
by  all  their  countrymen  counted  too  far  about ;  and 
that,  therefore,  their  usual  way  was  to  make  a  short 
cut  of  it,  and  to  climb  over  the  wall  as  they  had 
done. 

Chr.  But  will  it  not  be  counted  a  trespass  against 
the  Lord  of  the  city  whither  we  are  bound,  thus  to 
violate  his  revealed  will.? 

They  told  him.  That  as  for  that,  he  needed  not  to 
trouble  his  head  thereabout ;  for  what  they  did  they 
had  custom  for,  and  could  produce,  if  need  were, 
^  John  X.  I, 


86  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

testimony  that  would  witness  it,  for  more  than  i 
tliousand  years. 

But,  said  Christian,  will  your  practice  stand  a  trial 
at  law  ? 

They  told  him,  That  custom,  it  being  of  so  long 
standing  as  above  a  thousand  years,  would  doubtless 
now  be  admitted  as  a  thing  legal  by  an  impartial 
judge.  And  besides,  say  they,  if  we  get  into  the 
way,  what  matter  is  it  which  way  we  get  in  }  If  we 
are  in,  we  are  in :  thou  art  but  in  the  way,  who,  as 
we  perceive,  came  in  at  the  gate  ;  and  we  also  are 
in  the  way,  that  came  tumbling  over  the  wall : 
wherein  now  is  thy  condition  better  than  ours.^ 

Chr.  I  walk  by  the  rule  of  my  Master  ;  you  walk 
by  the  rude  working  of  your  fancies.  You  are 
counted  thieves  already  by  the  Lord  of  the  way  ; 
therefore  I  doubt  you  will  not  be  found  true  men  at 
the  end  of  the  way.  You  come  in  by  yourselves, 
without  his  direction,  and  shall  go  out  by  yourselves, 
without  his  mercy. 

To  this  they  made  him  but  little  answer ;  only 
they  bid  him  look  to  himself.  Then  I  saw  that  they 
went  on,  every  man  in  his  way,  without  much  con- 
ference one  with  another,  save  that  these  two  men 
told  Christian,  that,  as  to  laws  and  ordinances,  they 
doubted  not  but  that  they  should  as  conscientiously 
do  them  as  he.     Therefore,  said  they,  we  see  not 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  Sj 

wherein  thou  diBerest  from  us,  but  by  the  coat  that 
is  on  thy  back,  which  was,  as  we  trow,  given  thee 
by  some  of  thy  neighbours,  to  hide  the  shame  of  tliy 
nakedness. 

Chr.  By  hiws  and  ordinances  you  will  not  be 
saved, ^  since  you  came  not  in  by  the  door.  And  as 
for  this  coat  that  is  on  my  back,  it  was  given  me  by 
the  Lord  of  the  place  whither  I  go  ;  and  that,  as  you 
say,  to  cover  my  nakedness  with.  And  I  take  it  as 
a  token  of  kindness  to  me,  for  I  had  nothing  but 
rags  before.  And,  besides,  thus  I  comfort  myself  as 
I  go.  Surely,  think  I,  when  I  come  to  the  gate  of 
the  city,  the  Lord  thereof  will  know  me  for  good, 
since  I  have  his  coat  on  my  back  ;  a  coat  that  he 
gave  me  freely  in  the  day  that  he  stripped  me  of  my 
rags.  I  have,  moreover,  a  mark  in  my  forehead,  of 
which  perhaps  you  have  taken  no  notice,  which  one  of 
my  Lord's  most  intimate  associates  fixed  there  in  the 
day  that  my  burden  fell  off  my  shoulders.  I  will 
tell  you,  moreover,  that  I  had  then  given  me  a  roll 
sealed,  to  comfort  me,  by  reading  as  I  go  on  the 
way:  I  was  also  bid  to  give  it  in  at  the  celestial 
gate,  in  token  of  my  certain  going  in  after  it ;  all 
which  things  I  doubt  you  want,  and  want  them  be- 
cause you  came  not  in  at  the  gate. 

To  these  things  they  gave  him  no  answer,  only 
•  Gal.  ii.  1 6. 


88  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  looked  upon  each  other,  and  laughed.  Then  I 
saw  that  they  all  went  on,  save  that  Christ! An  kept 
before,  who  had  no  more  talk  but  with  himself,  and 
that  sometimes  sighingly,  and  sometimes  comfort- 
ably :  also  he  would  be  often  reading  in  the  roll  that 
one  of  the  shining  ones  gave  him,  by  which  he  was 
refreshed. 

I  beheld  then,  that  they  all  went  on  till  they  came 
to  the  foot  of  the  hill  Difficulty,  at  the  bottom  of 
which  was  a  spring.  There  were  also  in  tlie  same 
place  two  other  ways,  besides  that  which  came 
straight  from  the  gate  :  one  turned  to  the  left  hand, 
and  the  other  to  the  right,  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill ; 
but  the  narrow  way  lay  right  up  the  hill,  and  the 
name  of  the  going  up  the  side  of  the  hill  is  called 
Difficulty.  Christian  now  went  to  the  spring,  and 
drank  thereof  to  refresh  himself,^  and  then  he  began 
to  go  U23  the  hill,  saying, 

"The  hill,  though  high,  I  covet  to  ascend; 
The  difficuhy  will  not  me  offend  ; 
For  I  perceive  the  way  to  life  lies  here  : 
Come,  pluck  up  heart,  let's  neither  faint  nor  fear. 
Better,  though  difficult,  the  right  way  to  go, 
Than  wrong,  though  easy,  where  the  end  is  woe." 

The  other  two  also  came  to  the  foe  t  of  the  !iill, 
'  Isa.  xlix.  IO-I2. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  S9 

but  when  they  saw  that  the  hill  w\as  steep  and  high, 
and  that  there  were  two  other  ways  to  go  ;  and  sup- 
posing also  that  these  two  ways  might  meet  again 
w  itli  that  up  which  Cliristian  went,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  hill  ;  therefore  they  were  resolved  to  go  in 
those  ways.  Now  the  name  of  one  of  those  ways 
was  Danger,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Destruction. 
So  the  one  took  the  way  which  is  called  Danger, 
which  led  him  into  a  great  wood  ;  and  the  other 
took  directly  up  the  way  to  Destruction,  which  led 
him  into  a  wide  field,  full  of  dark  mountains,  where 
he  stumbled  and  fell,  and  rose  no  more. 

I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him  go  up  the 
hill,  where  I  perceived  he  fell  from  running  to  going, 
and  from  going  to  clambering  upon  his  hands  and 
his  knees,  because  of  the  steepness  of  the  place. 
Now  about  the  midway  to  the  top  of  the  hill  was  a 
pleasant  arbour,  made  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  for 
the  refreshment  of  weary  travellers.  Thither,  there- 
fore, Christian  got,  where  also  he  sat  down  to  rest 
him  :  then  he  pulled  his  roll  out  of  his  bosom,  and 
read  therein  to  his  comfort ;  he  also  now  began 
afresh  to  take  a  review  of  the  coat  or  garment  that 
was  given  to  him  as  he  stood  by  the  cross.  Thus 
pleasing  himself  a  while,  he  at  last  fell  into  a  slum- 
ber, and  thence  into  a  fast  sleep,  which  detained  him 
in  that  place  until   it  was  almost  night ;  and  in  his 


90  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

sleep  his  roll  fell  out  of  his  hand.  Now,  as  he  was 
sleeping,  there  came  one  to  him,  and  awaked  him, 
saying,  "  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  consider  her 
ways,  and  be  wise."^  And  with  that,  Christian  sud- 
denly started  up,  and  sped  him  on  his  way,  and 
went  apace  till  he  came  to  the  top  of  the  hill. 

Now  when  he  was  got  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill, 
there  came  two  men  running  amain ;  the  name  of 
the  one  was  Timorous,  and  of  the  other  Mistrust : 
to  whom  Christian  said.  Sirs,  what's  the  matter? 
you  run  the  wrong  way.  Timorous  answered,  That 
they  were  going  to  the  city  of  Zion,  and  had  got  up 
that  difficult  place :  but,  said  he,  the  farther  we  go, 
the  more  danger  we  meet  with,  wherefore  we  turned 
and  are  going  back  again. 

Yes,  said  Mistrust,  for  just  before  us  lie  a  couple 
of  lions  in  the  way,  whether  sleeping  or  waking  we 
know  not ;  and  we  could  not  think,  if  we  came 
within  reach,  but  they  would  presently  pull  us  in 
pieces. 

Then  said  Christian,  You  make  me  afraid  ;  but 
whither  shall  I  fly  to  be  safe.^  If  I  go  back  to  mine 
own  country,  that  is  prepared  for  fire  and  brimstone, 
and  I  shall  certainly  perish  thei^e  ;  if  I  can  get  to 
the  celestial  city,  I  am  sure  to  be  in  safety  there :  I 
must  venture.  To  go  back  is  nothing  but  death  ;  to 
^  Prov.  vi.  6. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  9 1 

go  forward  is  fear  of  death,  and  life  everlasting  be- 
yond it:  I  will  yet  go  forward.  So  Mistrust  and 
Timorous  ran  down  the  hill,  and  Christian  went  on 
his  way.  But  thinking  again  of  what  he  had  heard 
from  the  men,  he  felt  in  his  bosom  for  his  roll,  that 
he  might  read  therein  and  be  comforted :  but  he  felt, 
and  found  it  not.  Then  w\as  Christian  in  great  dis- 
tress, and  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  for  he  wanted  that 
which  used  to  relieve  him,  and  that  which  should 
have  been  his  pass  into  the  celestial  city.  Here, 
therefore,  he  began  to  be  much  perplexed,  and  knew 
not  what  to  do.  At  last  he  bethought  himself  that 
he  had  slept  in  the  arbour  that  is  on  the  side  of  the 
hill ;  and,  falling  down  upon  his  knees,  he  asked 
God  forgiveness  for  that  foolish  fact,  and  tlien  went 
back  to  look  for  his  roll.  But  all  the  way  he  went 
back,  who  can  sufficiently  set  forth  the  sorrow  of 
Christian's  heart.?  Sometimes  he  sighed,  sometimes 
he  w^ept,  and  oftentimes  he  chid  himself  for  being  so 
foolish  to  fall  asleep  in  that  place,  which  was  erected 
only  for  a  little  refreshment  for  his  weariness.  Thus, 
therefore,  he  went  back,  carefully  looking  on  this 
side  and  on  that,  all  the  way  as  he  went,  if  happily 
he  might  find  his  roll,  that  had  been  his  comfort  so 
many  times  in  his  journey.  He  went  thus  till  he 
came  again  within  sight  of  the  arbour  where  he  sat 
and   slept ;    but  that  sight  renewed  his  sorrow   the 


92  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

more,  by  bringing  again,  even  afresh,  his  evil  of 
sleeping  into  his  mind.  Thus,  therefore,  he  now 
went  on,  bewailing  his  sinful  sleep,  saying,  Oh 
wretched  man  that  I  am  !  that  I  should  sleep  in  the 
day-time!^  that  I  should  sleep  in  the  midst  of  diffi- 
culty !  that  I  should  so  indulge  the  flesh,  as  to  use 
that  rest  for  ease  to  my  flesh,  which  the  Lord  of  the 
hill  hath  erected  only  for  the  relief  of  the  spirits  of 
pilgrims  !  How  many  steps  have  I  taken  in  vain  ! 
Thus  it  happened  to  Israel ;  for  their  sin  they  were 
sent  back  again  by  the  way  of  the  Red  Sea  ;  and  I 
am  made  to  tread  those  steps  with  sorrow,  which  I 
might  have  trod  with  delight,  had  it  not  been  for  this 
sinful  sleep.  How  far  might  I  have  been  on  my 
way  by  this  time  !  I  am  made  to  tread  those  steps 
thrice  over,  which  I  needed  not  to  have  trod  but 
once  :  yea,  now  also  I  am  like  to  be  benighted,  for 
the  day  is  almost  spent.     Oh  that  I  had  not  slept ! 

Now  by  this  time  he  was  come  to  the  arbour 
again,  where  for  a  while  he  sat  down  and  wept ;  but 
at  last  (as  God  would  have  it),  looking  sorrowfully 
down  under  the  settle,  there  he  espied  his  roll,  the 
which  he  with  trembling  and  haste  catched  up  and 
put  into  his  bosom.  But  who  can  tell  how  joyful 
this  man  was  when  he  had  gotten  his  roll  again ! 
For  this  roll  was  the  assurance  of  his  life,  and  ac- 
1  I  Thess.  V.  7,  8 ;  Rev.  ii.  4,  5. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  93 

ceptance  at  the  desired  haven.  Therefore  he  hiid  it 
up  in  his  bosom,  gave  thanks  to  God  for  directing 
his  eye  to  the  phice  where  it  lay,  and  with  joy  and 
tears  betook  himself  again  to  his  jonrney.  But,  oh 
how  nimbly  did  he  go  up  the  rest  of  the  hill !  Yet 
before  he  got  up,  the  sun  went  down  upon  Christian  : 
and  this  made  him  again  recall  the  vanity  of  his 
sleeping  to  his  remembrance  ;  and  thus  he  again  be- 
gan to  condole  with  himself:  Oh  thou  sinful  sleep  ! 
how  for  thy  sake  am  I  like  to  be  benighted  in  my 
journey !  I  must  walk  without  the  sun,  darkness 
must  cover  the  path  of  my  feet,  and  I  must  hear  the 
noise  of  the  doleful  creatures,  because  of  my  sinful 
sleep !  Now  also  he  remembered  the  story  that 
Mistrust  and  Timorous  told  him  of,  how  they  were 
frighted  with  the  sight  of  tlie  lions.  Then  said 
Christian  to  himself  again,  These  beasts  range  in 
the  night  for  their  prey ;  and  if  they  should  meet 
with  me  in  the  dark,  how  should  I  shift  them?  how 
should  I  escape  being  by  them  torn  in  pieces  ?  Tluis 
he  went  on  his  way.  But  wliile  he  was  bewailing 
his  unhappy  miscarriage,  he  lift  up  his  eyes,  and  be- 
hold there  was  a  very  stately  palace  before  him,  the 
name  of  which  was  Beautiful,  and  it  stood  by  the 
highwa3--side. 

So  I  saw  in   my  dream,  that  he   made  haste,  and 
went  fo  ward,  that  if  possible  he  might  get  lodging 


94  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

there.  Now  before  he  had  gone  far,  he  entered  into 
a  very  narrow  passage,  which  was  about  a  furlong 
off  of  the  Porter's  lodge  ;  and  looking  very  narrowly 
before  him  as  he  went,  he  espied  two  lions  in  the 
way.  Now,  thought  he,  I  see  the  dangers  that  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous  were  driven  back  by.  (The 
lions  were  chained,  but  he  saw  not  the  chains.) 
Then  he  was  afraid,  and  thought  also  himself  to  go 
back  after  them,  for  he  thought  nothing  but  death 
was  before  him.  But  the  Porter  at  the  lodge,  whose 
naine  is  Watchful,  perceiving  that  Christian  made  a 
halt  as  if  he  would  go  back,  cried  unto  him,  saying, 
Is  thy  strength  so  small  .''^  Fear  not  the  lions,  for 
they  are  chained,  and  are  placed  there  for  trial  of 
faith  where  it  is  ;  and  for  discovery  of  those  that 
have  none  :  keep  in  the  midst  of  the  path,  and  no 
hurt  shall  come  unto  thee. 

Then  I  saw  that  he  went  on,  trembling  for  fear  of 
the  lions  ;  but  taking  good  heed  to  the  directions  of 
the  Porter,  he  heard  them  roar,  but  they  did  him  no 
harm.  Then  he  clapped  his  hands,  and  went  on  till 
he  came  and  stood  before  the  gate  where  the  Porter 
was.  Then  said  Christian  to  the  Porter,  Sir,  what 
house  is  this.''  and  may  I  lodge  here  to-night?  The 
Porter  answered.  This  house  was  built  by  the  Lord 
of  the  hir,  and  he  built  it  for  the  relief  and  security 
1  Mark  iv.  40. 


I'alaci-    ISuaiitilul. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  95 

of  pilgrims.  The  Porter  also  asked  whence  he  was, 
and  whither  he  was  going? 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction, 
and  am  going  to  Mount  Zion  ;  but  because  the  sun 
is  now  set,  I  desire,  if  I  may,  to  lodge  here  to- 
night. 

Port.  What  is  your  name.'' 

Chr.  My  name  is  now  Christian,  but  my  name  at 
the  first  was  Graceless  ;  I  came  of  the  race  of  Japh- 
eth,'  whom  God  will  persuade  to  dwell  in  the  tents 
of  Shem. 

Port.  But  how  doth  it  happen  that  you  come  so 
late?  the  sun  is  set. 

Chr.  I  had  been  here  sooner,  but  that,  wretched 
man  that  I  am  !  I  slept  in  the  arbour  that  stands  on 
the  hill-side !  Nay,  I  had,  notwithstanding  that, 
been  here  much  sooner,  but  that  in  my  sleep  I  lost 
my  evidence,  and  came  without  it  to  the  brow  of  the 
hill ;  and  then  feeling  for  it,  and  not  finding  it,  I  was 
forced  with  sorrow  of  heart  to  go  back  to  the  place 
where  I  slept  my  sleep  ;  where  I  found  it,  and  now 
I  am  come. 

Port.  Well,  I  will  call  out  one  of  the  virgins  of 

this  place,  who  will,  if  she  likes  your  talk,  bring  you 

in  to  the  rest  of  the  family,  according  to  the  rules  of 

the  house.     So  Watchful  the  Porter  rang  a  bell,  at 

*  Gen.  ix.  27. 


9^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  sound  of  which  came  out  of  the  door  of  the 
hcjuse  a  grave  and  beautiful  damsel,  named  Discre- 
tion, and  asked  why  she  was  called? 

The  Porter  answered.  This  man  is  on  a  journey 
from  the  city  of  Destruction  to  Mount  Zion  ;  but  be- 
ing weary  and  benighted,  he  asked  me  if  he  might 
lodge  here  to-night :  so  I  told  him  I  would  call  for 
thee,  who,  after  discourse  had  with  him,  mayest  do 
as  seemeth  thee  good,  even  according  to  the  law  of 
the  house. 

Then  she  asked  him  whence  he  was,  and  whither 
he  was  going?  and  he  told  her.  She  asked  him 
also,  how  he  got  into  the  way?  and  he  told  her. 
Then  she  asked  him  what  he  had  seen  and  met  with 
m  the  way?  and  he  told  her.  And  at  last  she  asked 
his  name?  So  he  said,  It  is  Christian  ;  and  I  have 
so  much  the  more  a  desire  to  lodge  here  to-night, 
because,  by  what  I  perceive,  this  place  was  built  by 
the  Lord  of  the  hill  for  the  relief  and  security  of 
pilgrims.  So  she  smiled,  but  the  water  stood  in  her 
eyes  ;  and  after  a  little  pause  she  said,  I  will  call 
forth  two  or  three  more  of  tlie  family.  So  she  ran 
to  the  door,  and  called  out  Prudence,  Piety  and 
Charity,  who,  after  a  little  more  discourse  with  him, 
had  him  into  the  family  ;  and  many  of  them  meeting 
him  at  the  threshold  of  the  house,  said,  Come  in, 
thou  blessed  of  the  Lord  ;  this  house  was  built  by 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  97 

the  Lord  of  the  hill,  on  purpose  to  entertain  such 
pilgrims  in.  Then  he  bowed  his  head,  and  followed 
them  into  the  house.  So  when  he  was  come  in  and 
sat  down,  they  gave  him  something  to  drink,  and 
consented  together  that,  until  supper  was  ready, 
some  of  them  should  have  some  particular  discourse 
with  Christian,  for  the  best  improvement  of  time  ; 
and  they  appointed  Piety,  Prudence,  and  Charity 
to  discourse  with  him  :  and  thus  they  began. 

Piety.  Come,  good  Christian,  since  we  have  bee.i 
so  loving  to  you  to  receive  you  into  our  house  this 
night,  let  us,  if  perhaps  we  may  better  ourselves 
thereby,  talk  with  you  of  all  things  that  have  hap- 
pened to  you  in  your  pilgrimage. 

Chr.  With  a  very  good  will ;  and  I  am  glad  that 
you  are  so  well  disposed. 

Piety.  What  moved  you  at  first  to  betake  your- 
self to  a  pilgrim's  life? 

Chr.  I  was  driven  out  of  my  native  country  by  a 
dreadful  sound  that  was  in  mine  ears  ;  to  wit,  that 
unavoidable  destruction  did  attend  me,  if  I  abode  in 
that  place  where  I  was. 

Piety.  But  how  did  it  happen  that  you  came  out 
of  your  country  this  way? 

Chr.  It  was  as  God  would  have  it ;  for  when  I 
was  under  the  fears  of  destruction,  I  did  not  know 
whither  to  go  ;  but  by  chance  there  came  a  man  even 


98  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

to  me,  as  I  was  trembling  and  weeping,  wiiose  name 
is  Evangelist,  and  he  directed  me  to  the  Wicket- 
gate,  which  else  I  should  never  have  found,  and  so 
set  me  into  the  way  that  hath  led  me  directly  to  this 
house. 

Piety,  But  did  you  not  come  by  the  house  of  the 
Interpreter  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there,  the  re- 
membrance of  which  will  stick  hy  me  as  long  as  I 
live,  especially  three  things ;  to  wit,  how  Christ,  in 
despite  of  Satan,  maintains  his  work  of  grace  in  the 
heart ;  how  the  man  had  sinned  Limseil  quite  out 
of  hopes  of  God's  mercy ;  and  also  the  dream  of 
him  that  thought  in  his  sleep  the  day  of  judgment 
was  come. 

Piety.  Why,  did  you  hear  him  tell  his  dream? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  a  dreadful  one  it  was,  I  thought ; 
it  made  my  heart  ache  as  he  was  telling  of  it,  but 
yet  I  am  glad  I  heard  it. 

Piety.  Was  this  all  you  saw  at  the  house  of  the 
Interpreter .? 

Chr.  No ;  he  took  me,  and  had  me  where  he 
showed  me  a  stately  palace,  and  how  the  people 
were  clad  in  gold  that  were  in  it ;  and  how  there 
came  a  venturous  man,  and  cut  his  way  through  the 
armed  men  that  stood  in  the  door,  to  keep  him  out ; 
and  how  he  was  bid  to  come  in,  and   win   eternal 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  99 

glory.  IMethouglit  those  things  did  ravish  my  heart. 
I  would  have  stayed  at  that  good  man's  house  a 
tvvelvemontli,  but  that  I  knew  I  had  further  to  go. 

Piety.  And  what  saw  you  else  in  the  way? 

Chr.  Saw  ?  Why,  I  went  but  a  little  further,  and 
I  saw  one,  as  I  thought  in  my  mind,  hang  bleeding 
upon  a  tree  ;  and  the  very  sight  of  him  made  my 
burden  fall  oft'  my  back  ;  for  I  groaned  under  a  very 
heavy  burden,  but  then  it  fell  down  from  oft' me.  It 
was  a  strange  thing  to  me,  for  I  never  saw  such  a 
thing  before  ;  yea,  and  while  I  stood  looking  up  (for 
then  I  could  not  forbear  looking),  three  shining  ones 
came  to  me.  One  of  them  testified  that  my  sins 
were  forgiven  me  ;  another  stripped  me  of  my  rags, 
and  gave  me  this  broidered  coat  which  you  see  ;  and 
tlie  third  set  the  mark  which  you  see  in  my  fore- 
head, and  gave  me  this  sealed  roll  (and  with  that  he 
plucked  it  out  of  his  bosom). 

Piety.  But  you  saw  more  than  this,  did  you 
not? 

Chr.  The  things  that  I  have  told  you  were  the 
best ;  yet  some  other  matters  I  saw,  as,  namely,  I 
saw  three  men,  Simple,  Sloth,  and  Presumption,  lie 
asleep,  a  little  out  of  the  way  as  I  came,  with  irons 
upon  their  heels ;  but  do  you  think  I  could  awake 
them  ?  I  also  saw  Formality  and  Hypocrisy  come 
tumbling  over  the  wall,  to  go,  as  they  pretended,  to 


lOO  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Ziou  ;  but  they  were  quickly  lost,  even  as  I  m}'Self 
did  tell  them,  but  they  would  not  believe.  But 
above  all,  I  found  it  hard  work  to  get  up  this  hill, 
and  as  hard  to  come  by  the  lions'  mouths ;  and 
truly,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  good  man  the 
Porter,  that  stands  at  the  gate,  I  do  not  know  but 
that,  after  all,  I  might  have  gone  back  again  :  but  I 
thank  God  I  am  here,  and  I  thank  you  for  receiving 
of  me. 

Then  Prudence  thought  good  to  ask  him  a  few 
questions,  and  desired  his  answer  to  them. 

Pku.  Do  you  not  think  sometimes  of  the  country 
from  whence  you  came .'' 

Chr.  Yes,  but  with  mucli  shame  and  detestation  ; 
truly,  if  I  had  been  mindful  of  that  country  from 
whence  I  came  out,  I  might  have  had  opportunity  to 
have  returned  ;  but  now  I  desire  a  better  country, 
that  is  an  heavenl3%^ 

Pru.  Do  you  not  yet  bear  away  with  you  some  of 
the  things  that  then  you  were  conversant  withal.'' 

Chr.  Yes,  but  greatly  against  my  will  ;  especially 
my  inward  and  carnal  cogitations,  with  which  all 
my  countrymen,  as  well  as  myself,  were  delighted  ; 
but  now  all  those  things  are  my  grief;  and  might  I 
but  choose  mine  own  things,  I  would  cl  oose  never 
to  think  of  those  things  more  ;  but  when  I  would  be 
^  Heb.  xi.  15,  16. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  lOl 

a-iloi*ig  of  that  which  is  best,  that  which  is  worst  is 
with  me.' 

Pru.  Do  you  not  find  sometimes  as  if  those  things 
were  vanquished,  which  at  other  times  are  your  per- 
plexity ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom  ;  but  they  are 
to  me  golden  hours  in  which  such  things  happen  to 
me. 

Pru.  Can  you  remember  by  what  means  you 
find  your  annoyances  at  times  as  if  they  were 
vanquished  ? 

Chr.  Yes :  wdien  I  think  what  I  saw  at  the  cross, 
that  will  do  it ;  and  when  I  look  upon  my  broidered 
coat,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when  I  look  into  the  roll 
that  I  carry  in  my  bosom,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when 
my  thoughts  wax  warm  about  whither  I  am  going, 
that  will  do  it. 

Pru.  And  what  is  it  that  makes  you  so  desirous 
to  go  to  Mount  Zion } 

Chr.  Why,  there  I  hope  to  see  him  alive  that  did 
hang  dead  on  the  cross  ;  and  there  I  hope  to  be  rid 
of  all  those  things  that  to  this  day  are  in  me  an  an- 
noyance to  me:  there  they  say  there  is  no  death,'' 
and  there  I  shall  dwell  with  such  company  as  I  like 
best.  For,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  love  him,  because 
T  was  by  him  eased  oi'  my  burden  ;  and  I  am  we.irj.- 
^  Rom.  vii.  21.  *  Isa.  xxv.  8 ;  Rev.  xxi.  4. 


I02  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

of  my  inward  sickness.  I  would  fain  be  where  1 
shall  die  no  more,  and  with  the  company  that  shall 
continually  cry,  Holy,  holy,  holy. 

Then  said  Charity  to  Christian,  Have  you  a 
famUy.?  are  you  a  married  man.^ 

Chr.  I  have  a  wife  and  four  small  children  ? 

Cha.  And  why  did  you  not  bring  them  along 
with  you  } 

Then  Christian  wept,  and  said,  Oh  how  willingly 
would  I  have  done  it,  but  they  were  all  of  them  ut- 
terly averse  to  my  going  on  pilgrimage. 

Cha.  But  you  should  have  talked  to  them,  and 
have  endeavoured  to  show  them  the  danger  of  stay- 
ing behind. 

Chr.  So  I  did  ;  and  told  them  also  what  God  had 
shown  to  me  of  the  destruction  of  our  city  ;  but  I 
seemed  to  them  as  one  that  mocked,  and  they  be- 
lieved me  not.^ 

Cha.  And  did  you  pray  to  God  that  he  would 
bless  your  counsel  to  them .'' 

Chr.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  aflection  ;  for  you 
must  think  that  my  wife  and  poor  children  were  very 
dear  to  me. 

Cha.  But  did  you  tell  them  of  your  own  sorrow, 
and  fear  of  destruction .''  for  I  suppose  that  destruc- 
tion was  visible  enough  to  you. 
1  Gen.  xix.  14, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  103 

Chr.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over.  They  mii^ht 
also  see  my  fears  in  my  countenance,  in  my  tears, 
and  also  in  my  trembling  under  the  apprehension  of 
the  jiulgnient  that  did  hang  over  our  heads;  but  all 
was  not  sutttcient  to  prevail  with  them  to  come  with 
me. 

Cha.  But  what  coidd  they  say  for  themselves  why 
they  came  not.'' 

Chr.  Why,  my  wife  was  afraid  of  losing  this 
world,  and  my  children  were  given  to  the  foolish 
delights  of  youth  :  so,  what  by  one  thing,  and  what 
by  another,  they  left  me  to  wander  in  this  manner 
alone. 

CiiA.  But  did  you  not,  with  your  vain  life,  damp 
all  that  you  by  words  used  by  way  of  persuasi'on  to 
bring  them  away  with  you.'' 

Chr.  Indeed  I  cannot  commend  my  life,  for  I  am 
conscious  to  myself  of  many  failings  therein,  I 
know  also,  that  a  man  by  his  conversation  may  soon 
overthrow  what,  by  argument  or  persuasion,  he  doth 
labour  to  fasten  upon  others  for  their  good.  Yet, 
this  I  can  say,  I  was  very  wary  of  giving  them  oc- 
casion, by  any  unseemly  action,  to  make  them  averse 
to  going  on  pilgrimage.  Yea,  for  this  very  thing, 
they  would  tell  me  I  was  too  precise,  and  that  I  de- 
nied myself  of  things,  for  their  sakes,  in  which  they 
saw  n3  evil.     Nay,  I  think  I  may  say,  that  if  what 


I04  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  saw  in  me  did  hinder  them,  it  was  my  great 
tenderness  in  sinning  against  God,  or  of  doing  any 
wrong  to  my  neighbonr. 

Cha.  Indeed,  Cain  hated  his  brother,  because  his 
own  works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's  righteous;^ 
and  if  thy  wife  and  children  have  been  offended 
with  thee  for  this,  they  thereby  show  themselves  to 
be  implacable  to  good  :  and  thou  hast  delivered  thy 
soul  from  their  blood. ^ 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  thus  they  sat  talk- 
ing together  until  supper  was  i*eady.  So  when  they 
had  made  ready,  they  sat  down  to  meat.  Now  the 
table  was  furnished  with  fat  things,  and  with  wine 
that  was  well  refined  ;  and  all  their  talk  at  the  table 
was  about  the  Lord  of  the  hill ;  as,  namely,  about 
what  he  had  done,  and  wherefore  he  did  what  he 
did,  and  why  he  had  builded  that  house  :  and,  by 
what  they  said,  I  perceived  that  he  had  been  a  great 
warrior,  and  had  fought  with,  and  slain  him  that 
had  the  power  of  death ; '  but  not  without  great 
danger  to  himself,  which  made  me  love  him  the 
more. 

For,  as  they  said,  and  as  I  believed,  said  Christian, 

he  did  it  with  the  loss  of   much  blood.     But  that 

which  put  the  glory  of  grace   into  all  he  did,  was, 

that  he  did  it  out  of  pure  love  to  his  country.     And, 

1  I  J  -hn  iii.  12.  ^  Ezek.  iii.  19.  ^  Heb.  ii.  14. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 03 

besides,  there  were  some  of  them  of  the  household 
that  said,  they  had  been  and  spoke  with  him  since 
he  did  die  on  the  cross ;  and  they  have  attested  that 
they  had  it  from  his  own  lips,  that  he  is  such  a  lover 
of  poor  pilgrims,  that  the  like  is  not  to  be  found 
from  the  east  to  the  west. 

They,  moreover,  gave  an  instance  of  what  they 
affirmed,  and  that  was,  he  had  stripped  himself  of 
his  glory,  that  he  might  do  this  for  the  poor ;  and 
that  they  heard  him  say  and  affirm,  that  he  would 
not  dwell  in  the  mountain  of  Zion  alone.  They 
said,  moreover,  that  he  had  made  many  pilgrims 
princes,  though  by  nature  they  were  beggars  born, 
and  their  original  had  been  the  dunghill.^ 

Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at  night ; 
and,  after  they  had  committed  themselves  to  their 
Lord  for  protection,  they  betook  themselves  to  rest : 
the  pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber, 
whose  window  opened  towards  the  sunrising :  the 
name  of  the  chamber  was  Peace,  where  he  slept  till 
break  of  day,  and  then  he  awoke  and  sang — 

Where  am  I  now  ?     Is  this  the  love  and  care 
Of  Jesus,  for  the  men  that  pilgrims  are 
Thus  to  provide  !  that  I  should  be  forgiven, 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  heaven  ! 

So   in   the   morning   they  all   got  up  ;    and,   after 
^  I  Sam.  ii.  8;  Ps.  cxiii.  7. 


Io6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

some  more  discourse,  they  told  him  that  he  should 
not  depart  till  they  had  shown  him  the  rarities  of 
that  place.  And  first  they  had  him  into  the  study, 
where  they  showed  him  records  of  the  greatest  an- 
tiquity :  in  which,  as  I  remember  my  dream,  they 
showed  him  the  pedigree  of  the  Lord  of  the  hill, 
that  he  was  the  Son  of  the  Ancient  of  days,  and 
came  by  an  eternal  generation.  Here  also  were 
more  fully  recorded  the  acts  that  he  had  done,  and 
the  names  of  many  hundreds  that  he  had  taken  into 
his  service ;  and  how  he  had  placed  them  in  such 
habitations,  that  could  neither  by  length  of  days,  nor 
decays  of  nature,  be  dissolved. 

Then  they  read  to  him  some  of  the  worthy  acts 
that  some  of  his  servants  had  done  ;  as  how  they 
had  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness,  ob- 
tained promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of 
the  sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed 
valiant  in  fight,  and  turned  to  flight  the  armies  of  the 
aliens.^ 

Then  they  read  again  in  another  part  of  the  re- 
cords of  the  house,  where  it  was  shown  how  willing 
their  Lord  was  to  receive  into  his  favour  any,  even 
any,  though  they  in  times  past  had  offered  great  af- 
fronts to  his  person  and  proceedings.  Here  also 
1  Heb  xi.  33,  34. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  lo7 

were  several  other  histories  of  many  other  famous 
things,  of  all  which  Christian  had  a  view  ;  as  of 
things  both  ancient  and  modern,  together  with 
prophecies  and  predictions  of  things  that  have  their 
certain  accomplishment,  both  to  the  dread  and 
amazement  of  enemies,  and  the  comfort  and  solace 
of  pilgrims. 

The  next  day  they  took  him  and  had  him  into  the 
armoury,  where  they  showed  him  all  manner  of  fur- 
niture, which  their  Loid  had  provided  for  pilgrims, 
as  sword,  shield,  helmet,  breast-plate,  all-prayer,  and 
shoes  that  would  not  wear  out.  And  there  was 
here  enough  of  this  to  harness  out  as  many  men  for 
the  service  of  their  Lord,  as  there  be  stars  in  the 
heaven  for  multitude. 

They  also  showed  him  some  of  the  engines  with 
which  some  of  his  servants  had  done  wonderful 
things.  They  showed  him  Moses'  rod  ;  the  hammer 
and  nail  with  which  Jael  slew  Sisera  ;  the  pitchers, 
trumpets,  and  lamps  too,  with  which  Gideon  put  to 
flight  the  armies  of  Midian.  Then  they  showed  him 
the  ox's  goad  wherewith  Shamgar  slew  six  hundred 
men.  They  showed  him  also  the  jaw-bone  with 
which  Samson  did  such  mighty  feats  :  they  showed 
him  moreover  the  sling  and  stone  with  which  David 
slew  Goliah  of  Gath ;  and  the  sword  also  with 
which  the  Lord  will  kill  the  man  of  sin,  in  the  day 


Io8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  he  shall  rise  up  to  the  prey.  They  showed  him 
besides  many  excellent  things,  with  which  Christian 
was  much  delighted.  This  done,  they  went  to  their 
rest  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  on  the  morrow  he 
got  up  to  go  forwards,  but  they  desired  him  to  stay 
till  the  next  day  also  ;  And  then,  said  they,  we  will, 
if  the  day  be  clear,  show  you  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains ;  which  they  said,  would  yet  further  add  to  his 
comfort,  because  they  were  nearer  the  desired  haven 
than  the  place  where  at  present  he  was  ;  so  he  con- 
sented, and  stayed. 

When  the  morning  was  up,  they  had  him  to  the 
top  of  the  house,  and  bid  him  look  south  :  so  he  did  ; 
and,  behold,  at  a  great  distance,^  he  saw  a  most 
pleasant  mountainous  country,  beautified  with  woods, 
vine3'ards,  fruits  of  all  sorts,  flowers  also,  with  springs 
and  fountains,  very  delectable  to  behold.  Then  he 
asked  the  name  of  the  country.  They  said  it  was 
Immanuel's  Land  ;  And  it  is  as  common,  said  they, 
as  this  hill  is,  to  and  for  all  the  pilgrims.  And  when 
thou  comest  there,  from  thence  thou  mayest  see  to 
the  gate  of  the  celestial  city,  as  the  shepherds  that 
live  there  will  make  appear. 

Now  he  bethought  himself  of  setting  forward,  and 
they  wrre  willing  he  should.  But  first,  said  they, 
^  Isa.  xxxiii.  i6,  17. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  109 

lef  ijS  go  again  into  the  armoury.  So  they  did  ;  and 
vvhon  he  came  there,  they  harnessed  him  from  head 
to  foot,  with  what  was  of  proof,  lost  pcrliaps  he 
should  meet  with  assaults  in  the  way.  He  being 
therefore  thus  accoutred,  walked  out  with  his  friends 
to  the  gate,  and  there  he  asked  the  Porter,  if  he  saw 
any  pilgrim  pass  by?  Then  the  Porter  answered, 
Yes. 

Pray  did  you  know  him  ?  said  he. 

PoR  I  asked  his  name,  and  he  told  me  it  was 
Faithfi  1. 

Oh,  said  Christian,  I  know  him  ;  he  is  my  towns- 
man, my  near  neighbour,  he  comes  from  tiie  place 
where  I  was  born.  How  far  do  you  think  he  may 
be  before? 

PoR.  He  is  got  by  this  time  below  the  hill. 

Well,  said  Christian,  good  Porter,  the  Lord  be 
with  tliee,  and  add  to  all  thy  blessings  much  in- 
crease, for  the  kindness  that  thou  hast  showed  to  me. 

Then  he  began  to  go  forward  ;  but  Discretion, 
Piety,  Charity,  and  Prudence  would  accom2:)any  him 
down  to  the  foot  of  the  hill.  So  they  went  on  to- 
gether, reiterating  their  former  discourses,  till  they 
came  to  go  down  the  hill.  Then  said  Christian,  As 
it  was  difficult  coming  up,  so,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  it  is 
dangerous  going  down.  Yes,  said  Prudence,  so  it  is  ; 
for  it  is  a  hard  matter  for  a  man  to  go  down  into  the 


no  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Valley  of  Humiliation,  as  thou  art  now,  and  to  catch 
no  slip  by  the  way  ;  therefore,  said  they,  we  ai^e 
come  out  to  accompany  thee  down  the  hill.  So  he 
began  to  go  down,  but  very  warily,  yet  he  caught  a 
slip  or  two. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  good  com- 
panions, when  Christian  was  got  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  hill,  gave  him  a  loaf  of  bread,  a  bottle  of 
wine,  and  a  cluster  of  raisins ;  and  then  he  went 
on  his  w^ay. 

Whilst  Christian  is  among  his  godly  friends, 
Their  golden  mouths  make  him  sufficient  mends 
For  all  his  griefs  ;  and  when  they  let  him  go, 
He's  clad  with  northern  steel  from  top  to  toe. 

But  now  in  this  Valley  of  Humiliation,  poor 
Christian  was  hard  put  to  it ;  for  he  had  gone  but  a 
little  way,  before  he  espied  a  foul  fiend  coming  over 
the  field  to  meet  him  :  his  name  is  Apollyon.  Then 
did  Christian  begin  to  be  afraid,  and  to  cast  in  his 
mind  whether  to  go  back  or  to  stand  his  ground. 
But  he  considered  again,  that  he  had  no  armour  for 
his  back,  and  therefore  thought  that  to  turn  the  back 
to  him  might  give  him  greater  advantage,  with  ease 
to  pierce  him  with  his  darts,  therefore  he  resolved  to 
venture  and  stand  his  ground  :  for,  thought  he,  had 
I  no  more  in  my  eye  than  the  saving  of  my  life,  it 
would  be  the  best  way  to  stand. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  HI 

So  he  went  on,  and  Apollyon  met  him.  Now  the 
monster  was  hideous  to  behold  :  he  was  clothed  with 
scales  like  a  fish,  and  they  are  his  pride  ;  he  had 
wings  like  a  dragon,  feet  like  a  bear,  and  out  of  his 
belly  came  fire  and  smoke,  and  his  mouth  was  as  the 
mouth  of  a  lion.  When  he  was  come  up  to  Chris- 
tian, he  Deheld  hiin  with  a  disdainful  countenance, 
and  thus  began  to  question  him. 

Apol.  Whence  came  you  ;  and  whither  are  you 
bound  ? 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction, 
which  is  the  place  of  all  evil,  and  am  going  to  the 
city  of  Zion. 

Apol.  By  this  I  perceiv^e  that  thou  art  one  of  my 
subjects  ;  for  all  that  country  is  mine,  and  I  am  the 
prince  and  god  of  it.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  hast 
run  away  from  thy  king.''  Were  it  not  that  I  hope 
thou  mayest  do  me  more  service,  I  would  strike  thee 
now  at  one  blow  to  the  groimd. 

Chr.  I  was  indeed  born  in  your  dominions,  but 
your  service  was  hard,  and  your  wages  such  as  a 
man  could  not  live  on  ;  for  the  wages  of  sin  is  death  ;^ 
therefore  when  I  was  come  to  years,  I  did  as  other 
considerate  persons  do,  look  out  if  perhaps  I  might 
mend  myself. 

Apol.  There  is  no  prince  that  will  thus  lightly 
1  Rom.  vi.  23. 


112  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

lose  his  subjects,  neither  will  I  as  yet  lose  thee :  bu- 
since  thou  coinplainest  of  thy  sei'vice  and  wages,  be 
content  to  go  back  ;  what  our  country  will  aflbrd,  1 
do  here  promise  to  give  thee. 

Chr.  But  I  have  let  myself  to  another,  even  to  the 
King  of  princes  ;  and  how  can  I  with  fairness  go 
back  with  thee? 

Apol.  Thou  hast  done  in  this  according  to  the 
proverb,  "  changed  a  bad  for  a  worse  :"  but  it  is 
ordinary  for  those  that  have  professed  themselves 
his  servants,  after  a  while  to  give  him  the  slip,  and 
return  again  to  me.  Do  thou  so  too,  and  all  shall  be 
well. 

Chr.  I  have  given  him  my  foith,  and  sworn  my 
allegiance  to  him  ;  how  then  can  I  go  back  from 
this,  and  not  be  hanged  as  a  traitor.? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  the  same  by  me,  and  yet  I  am 
willing  to  pass  by  all,  if  now  thou  wilt  yet  turn 
again  and  go  back. 

Chr.  What  I  promised  thee  was  in  my  nonage  ; 
and  besides,  I  count  that  the  Prince  under  whose 
banner  now  I  stand  is  able  to  absolve  me  ;  yea,  and 
to  pardon  also  what  I  did  as  to  my  compliance  with 
thee  :  and  besides,  O  thou  destroying  Apollyon,  to 
speak  truth,  I  like  his  service,  his  wages,  his  serv- 
ants, his  government,  his  company,  and  country, 
better  than  thine  ;    and    therefore   leave  off  to  per- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  113 

siiade  me  further:  I  am  his  servant  and  I  will  follow 
him. 

Apol.  Consider  again,  when  thou  art  in  cool 
blood,  what  thou  art  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way 
that  thou  goest.  Thou  knowest  that,  for  the  most 
part,  his  servants  come  to  an  ill  end,  because  they 
are  transgressors  against  me  and  my  ways.  How 
many  of  them  have  been  put  to  shameful  deaths ! 
And  besides,  thou  countest  his  service  better  than 
mine ;  whereas,  he  never  yet  came  from  the  place 
%  where  he  is,  to  deliver  any  that  served  him  out  of 
their  hands:  but  as  for  me,  how  many  times,  as  all 
the  world  very  well  knows,  have  I  delivered,  either 
by  power  or  fraud,  those  that  have  faithfully  served 
me,  from  him  and  his,  though  taken  by  them  :  and  so 
will  I  deliver  thee. 

Chr.  His  forbearing  at  present  to  deliver  them  is 
on  purpose  to  try  their  love,  whether  they  will  cleave 
to  hini  to  the  end  :  and  as  for  the  ill  end  thou  sayest 
they  come  to,  that  is  most  glorious  in  their  account : 
For,  for  present  deliverance,  they  do  not  much  ex- 
pect it ;  for  they  stay  for  their  glory,  and  then  they 
shall  have  it,  when,  their  Prince  comes  in  his,  and 
the  glory  of  the  angels, 

Apol,  Thou  hast  already  been  unfaithful  in  thy 
service  to  him  ;  and  how  dost  thou  think  to  recci^e 
wages  of  him  ? 


114  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  Wherein,  O  Apollyon,  have  I  been  unfaith- 
ful to  him? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  faint  at  first  setting  out,  when 
thou  wast  almost  choked  in  the  gulf  of  Despond. 
Thou  didst  attempt  wrong  ways  to  be  rid  of  thy 
burden,  whereas  thou  shouldest  have  staid  till  thy 
Prince  had  taken  it  oft'.  Thou  didst  sinfully  sleep, 
and  lose  thy  choice  things.  Thou  wast  also  almost 
persuaded  to  go  back  at  the  sight  of  the  lions  :  and 
when  thou  talkest  of  thy  journey,  and  of  what  thou 
hast  heard  and  seen,  thou  art  inwardly  desirous  of 
vain-glory  in  all  that  thou  sayest  or  doest. 

Chr.  All  this  is  true,  and  much  more  which  thou 
hast  left  out ;  but  the  Prince  whom  I  serve  and 
honour  is  merciful,  and  ready  to  forgive.  But,  be- 
sides, these  infirmities  possessed  me  in  thy  country, 
for  there  I  sucked  them  in  ;  and  I  have  groaned 
under  them,  being  sorry  for  them,  and  have  obtained 
pardon  of  my  Prince. 

Then  Apollyon  broke  out  into  a  grievous  rage, 
saying,  I  am  an  enemy  to  this  Prince ;  I  hate  his 
person,  his  laws,  and  people :  I  am  come  out  on 
purpose  to  withstand  thee. 

Chr.  Apollyon,  beware  what  you  do,  for  I  am  in 
the  King's  highway,  the  way  of  holiness;  therefore 
take  heed  to  yourself. 

Then   Apollyon   straddled   quite   over   the   whole 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  115 

breadth  of  the  way,  and  said,  I  am  void  of  fear  in 
this  matter.  Prepare  thyself  to  die  ;  for  I  swear  by 
my  infernal  den  that  thou  shalt  go  no  farther :  here 
will  I  spill  thy  soul.  And  with  that  he  threw  a 
flaming  dart  at  his  breast ;  but  Christian  had  a  shield 
in  his  hand,  with  which  he  caught  it,  and  so  pre- 
vented the  danger  of  that. 

Then  did  Christian  draw,  for  he  saw  it  was  time 
to  bestir  him  ;  and  Apollyon  as  fast  made  at  him, 
throwing  darts  as  thick  as  hail ;  by  the  which,  not- 
withstanding all  that  Christian  could  do  to  avoid  it, 
Apollyon  wounded  him  in  his  head,  his  hand,  and 
foot.  This  made  Christian  give  a  little  back : 
Apollyon,  therefore,  followed  his  work  amain, 
and  Christian  again  took  courage,  and  resisted  as 
manfully  as  he  could.  This  sore  combat  lasted  for 
above  half  a  day,  even  until  Christian  was  almost 
quite  spent ;  for  you  must  know  that  Christian,  by 
reason  of  his  wounds,  must  needs  grow  weaker  and 
weaker. 

Then  Apollyon,  espying  his  opportunity,  began  to 
gather  up  close  to  Christian,  and,  wrestling  with 
him,  gave  him  a  dreadful  fall ;  and  with  that  Chris- 
tian's sword  flew  out  of  his  hand.  Then  said  Apol- 
lyon, I  am  sure  of  thee  now  :  and  with  that  he  had 
almost  pressed  him  to  death,  so  that  Christian  began 
to  despair  of  life.     But,  as  God  would  have  it,  while 


Il6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Apollyon  was  fetching  his  hxst  blow,  thereby  to  make 
a  full  end  of  this  good  man,  Christian  nimbly  reached 
out  his  hand  for  his  sword,  and  caught  it,  saying, 
Rejoice  not  against  me,  O  mine  enemy !  when  I 
fall,  I  shall  arise  !^  and  with  that  gave  him  a  deadly 
thrust,  which  made  him  give  back,  as  one  that  had 
received  his  mortal  wound.  Christian,  perceiving 
that,  made  at  him  again,  saying,  Nay,  in  all  these 
things  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through  Him 
that  loved  us."  And,  with  that,  Apollyon  spread 
forth  his  dragon's  wings,  and  sped  him  away,  that 
Christian  saw  him  no  more. 

In  this  combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless  he  had 
seen  and  heard,  as  I  did,  what  yelling  and  hideous 
roaring  Apollyon  made  all  the  time  of  the  fight:  he 
spake  like  a  dragon  ;  and,  on  the  other  side,  what 
sighs  and  groans  burst  from  Christian's  heart.  I 
never  saw  him  all  the  while  give  so  much  as  one 
pleasant  look,  till  he  perceived  he  had  wounded 
Apollyon  with  his  two-edged  sword  ;  then,  indeed, 
he  did  smile  and  look  upward  !  But  it  was  the 
dreadfullest  sight  that  ever  I  saw. 

So  when  the  battle  was  over.  Christian  said,  I  will 
here  give  thanks  to  Him  that  hath  delivered  me  out 
of  the  mouth  of  the  lion,  to  Him  that  did  help  me 
against  Apollyon.     And  so  he  did,  saying — 

1  Mic.  vii.  8.  ^  Rom.  viii.  37,  39 ;  James  iv.  7. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  117 

Great  Beelzebub,  the  captain  of  this  fiend, 
Designed  my  ruin  ;  therefore  to  this  end 
He  sent  him  harnessed  out;  and  he  with  rage 
That  hellish  was,  did  fiercely  me  engage  ; 
But  blessed  Michael  helped  me,  and  I, 
By  dint  of  sword,  did  quickly  make  him  fly  : 
Therefore  to  him  let  me  give  lasting  praise, 
And  thank  and  bless  his  holy  name  always. 

Then  there  came  to  him  a  hand  with  some  of  the 
leaves  of  the  tree  of  Hfe,  the  which  Christian  took 
and  apphcd  to  the  wounds  that  he  had  received  in 
the  battle,  and  was  healed  immediately.  He  also 
sat  down  in  that  place  to  eat  bread,  and  to  drink  of 
the  bottle  that  was  given  him  a  little  before  :  so  being 
refreshed,  he  addressed  himself  to  his  journey  with 
his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand  ;  for  he  said,  I  know 
not  but  some  other  enemy  may  be  at  hand.  But  he 
met  with  no  other  affront  from  Apollyon  quite 
through  this  valley. 

Now,  at  the  end  of  this  valley  was  another,  called 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  ;  and  Christian 
must  needs  go  through  it,  because  the  way  to  the 
celestial  city  lay  through  the  midst  of  it.  Now, 
this  valley  is  a  very  solitary  place.  The  propliet 
Jeremiah  thus  describes  it :  "A  wilderness,  a  land 
of  deserts  and  of  pits ;  a  land  of  drought,  and  ol 
the  Shadow  of  Dea   '  ;    a  land   that  no   man    (luit 


Il8  THE  PILGRIArS  PROGRESS. 

a  Chiistian)  passeth  through,  and  where  no  man 
dwelt."  1 

Now.  here  Christian  was  worse  put  to  it  than  in 
his  fight  with  Apollyon  ;  as  by  the  sequel  you  shall 
see. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  when  Christian  was 
got  to  the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  there 
met  him  two  men,  children  of  them  that  brought  up 
an  evil  report  of  the  good  land,'^  making  haste  to  go 
back  ;  to  whom  Christian  spake  as  follows. 

Chr.  Whither  are  you  going  .f" 

They  said.  Back  !  back  !  and  we  would  have  you 
do  so  too,  if  either  life  or  peace  is  prized  by  you. 

Why,  what  is  the  matter.''  said  Christian. 

Matter !  said  they  :  we  were  going  that  way  as 
you  are  going,  and  went  as  far  as  we  durst ;  and  in- 
deed we  were  almost  past  coming  back  :  for  had  we 
gone  a  little  further,  we  had  not  been  here  to  bring 
the  news  to  thee. 

But  what  have  you  met  with  }  said  Christian. 

Men.  Why,  we  were  almost  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death  ;^  but  that  by  good  hap  we  looked 
before  us,  and  saw  the  danger  before  we  came  to  it. 

But  what  have  you  seen,^  said  Christian. 

Men.  Seen  !  why,  the  valley  itself,  which  is  as 
dark  as  pitch  :  we  also  saw  there  the  hobgoblins, 
1  Jer.  ii.  6.  ^  Numb.  xiii.  *  Ps.  xliv.  19. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  119 

satMS,  and  dragons  of  the  pit:  we  heard  also  in  that 
valley  a  continual  howling  and  yelling,  as  of  a 
people  under  unutterable  misery,  who  there  sat 
bound  in  affliction  and  irons:  and  over  that  valley 
hang  the  discouraging  clouds  of  confusion  :  death 
also  doth  always  spread  his  wings  over  it.'  In  a 
word,  it  is  every  whit  dreadful,  being  utterly  without 
order. 

Then  said  Christian,  I  perceive  not  yet,  by  what 
you  have  said,  but  that  this  is  my  way  to  the  desired 
haven. 

Men.  Be  it  thy  way  ;  we  will  not  choose  it  for 
ours. 

So  they  parted  ;  and  Christian  went  on  his  way, 
but  still  with  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  for  fear 
lest  he  should  be  assaulted. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  so  far  as  this  valley 
reached,  there  was  on  the  right  hand  a  very  deep 
ditch  ;  that  ditch  is  it  into  which  the  blind  have  led 
the  blind  in  all  ages,  and  have  both  there  miseiably 
perished.  Again,  behold,  on  the  left  hand  there 
was  a  very  dangerous  quag,  into  which  if  even  a 
good  man  falls,  he  finds  no  bottom  for  his  foot  to 
stand  on  :  into  that  quag  King  David  once  did  fall, 
and  had,  no  doubt,  therein  been  smothered,  had  not 
He  that  is  able  plucked  him  out.^ 

'  Job  iii.  5  ;  x.  22.  ^  Ps.  Ixix.  14. 


I20  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

The  pathway  was  here  also  exceeding  narrow, 
and  therefore  good  Christian  was  the  more  put  to  it ; 
for  when  he  sought  in  the  dark  to  shun  the  ditch  on 
the  one  liand,  he  was  ready  to  tip  over  into  the  mire 
on  the  other :  also  when  he  sought  to  escape  the 
mire,  without  great  carefulness  he  would  be  ready 
to  fall  into  the  ditch.  Thus  he  went  on,  and  I  heard 
him  here  sigh  bitterly  ;  for  besides  the  danger  men- 
tioned above,  the  pathway  was  here  so  dark,  that 
ofttimes,  when  he  lifted  up  his  foot  to  go  forward, 
he  knew  not  where,  or  upon  what  he  should  set  it 
next. 

About  the  midst  of  this  valley,  I  perceived  the 
mouth  of  hell  to  be,  and  it  stood  also  hard  by  the 
wayside.  Now,  thought  Christian,  what  shall  I  do.? 
and  ever  and  anon  the  flame  and  smoke  would  come 
out  in  such  abundance,  with  sparks  and  hideous 
noises  (things  that  cared  not  for  Christian's  sword,  as 
did  Apollyon  before),  that  he  was  forced  to  put  up 
his  sword,  and  betake  himself  to  another  weapon, 
called  All-prayer:  so  he  cried  in  my  hearing,  "  O 
Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  deliver  my  soul."^ 

Thus  he  went  on  a  great  while,  yet  still  the  flames 
would  be  reaching  towards  him  :  also  he  heard  dole- 
ful voices,  and  aishings  to  and  fro,  so  that  sometimes 
he  thought  he  should  be  torn  in  pieces,  or  trodden 
^  Ps.  cxvi.  4;  Eph.  vi.  i8. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  I2I 

down  like  mire  in  the  streets.  This  frightful  sight 
was  seen,  and  these  dreadful  noises  were  heard  by 
l.im,  for  several  miles  togetjier ;  and  coming  to  a 
place  where  he  thought  he  heard  a  company  of 
tiends  coming  forward  to  meet  him,  he  stopped,  and 
began  to  muse  what  he  had  best  to  do.  Sometimes 
he  had  half  a  thought  to  go  back  ;  then  again  he 
thought  he  might  be  halfway  through  the  valley  ; 
he  remembered  also  how  he  had  already  vanquished 
many  a  danger  ;  and  that  the  danger  of  going  back 
might  be  much  more  than  for  to  go  forward.  So  he 
resolved  to  go  on  :  yet  the  fiends  seemed  to  come 
nearer  and  nearer ;  but,  when  they  were  come  even 
almost  at  him,  he  cried  out  with  a  most  vehement 
voice,  "I  will  walk  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord 
God ;"  so  they  gave  back,  and  came  no  farther. 

One  thing  I  would  not  let  slip  :  I  took  notice,  that 
now  poor  Christian  was  so  confounded,  that  he  did 
not  know  his  own  voice;  and  thus  I  perceived  it: 
just  when  he  was  come  over  against  the  mouth  of 
the  burning  pit,  one  of  the  wicked  ones  got  behind 
him,  and  stepped  up  softly  to  him,  and  whisperingly 
suggested  many  grievous  blasphemies  to  him,  which 
he  verily  thought  had  proceeded  from  his  own  mind. 
This  put  Christian  more  to  it  than  anything  that  he 
met  with  before,  even  to  think  that  he  should  now 
bla«;plicmc  Him  that  he  loved  so  much  before  ;  yet  if 


122  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

he  could  have  helped  it,  he  would  not  have  done  it : 
but  he  had  not  the  discretion  either  to  stop  his  ears, 
or  to  know^  from  whence  those  blasphemies  came. 

When  Christian  had  travelled  in  this  disconsolate 
condition  some  considerable  time,  he  thought  he 
heard  the  voice  of  a  man,  as  going  before  him, 
saying,  "  Though  I  walk  through  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  I  will  fear  no  ill,  for  thou  art 
with  me."^ 

Then  was  he  glad,  and  that  for  these  reasons  : 

First,  Because  he  gathered  from  thence,  that 
some  who  feared  God  were  in  this  valley  as  well  as 
himself. 

Secondly,  For  that  he  perceived  God  was  with 
them,  though  in  that  dark  and  dismal  state :  and 
why  not,  thought  he,  with  me  ;  though  by  reason  of 
the  impediment  that  attends  this  place,  I  cannot  pei'- 
ceive  it.''^ 

Thirdly,  For  that  he  hoped  (could  he  overtake 
them)  to  have  company  by  and  by. 

So  he  went  on,  and  called  to  him  that  was  before  ; 
but  he  knew  not  what  to  answer,  for  that  he  also 
thought  himself  to  be  alone.  And  by  and  by  the 
day  broke :  then  said  Christian,  He  hath  "  turned 
the  shadow  of  death  into  the  morning."^ 

Now  morning  be>"ng  come,  he  looked  back,  not 
1  Ps.  xxiii.  4.  -  Job  ix.  11.  ^  Amos  v.  8. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 23 

out  of  desire  to  return,  but  to  see,  by  the  light  of  the 
day,  what  hazards  he  had  gone  through  in  the  dark  : 
so  he  saw  more  perfectly  the  ditch  that  was  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  quag  that  was  on  the  other ;  also 
how  narrow  the  way  was  which  led  betwixt  them 
both  :  also  now  he  saw  the  hobgoblins,  and  satyrs, 
and  dragons  of  the  pit,  but  all  afar  off:  for  after 
break  of  day  they  came  not  nigh  ;  yet  they  wei'e 
discovered  to  him,  according  to  that  which  is  writ- 
ten, "  He  discovereth  deep  things  out  of  darkness, 
and  bringeth  out  to  light  the  shadow  of  death."  ^ 

Now  was  Christian  much  affected  with  this  de- 
liverance from  all  the  dangers  of  his  solitary  way : 
which  dangers,  though  he  feared  them  much  before, 
yet  he  saw  them  more  clearly  now,  because  the  light 
of  the  day  made  them  conspicuous  to  him.  And 
about  this  time  the  sun  was  rising,  and  this  was  an- 
other mercy  to  Christian  ;  for  you  must  note,  that 
though  the  first  part  of  the  Valley  of  tlie  Shadow 
of  Death  was  dangerous,  yet  this  second  part,  which 
he  was  yet  to  go,  was,  if  possible,  far  more  danger- 
ous ;  for,  from  the  place  where  he  now  stood,  even 
to  the  end  of  the  valley,  the  way  was  all  along  set 
so  full  of  snares,  traps,  gins,  and  nets  here,  and  so 
full  of  pits,  pitfiills,  deep  holes,  and  shclvings-down 
there,  that,  ha  1  i  now  been  dark,  as  it  was  when  he 
'  Job  \\'\.  12. 


124  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

came  the  first  part  of  the  way,  had  he  had  a  thousand 
souls,  they  had  in  reason  been  cast  away ;  but,  as  I 
said,  just  now  the  sun  was  rising.  Then  said  he, 
"  His  candle  shineth  on  my  head,  and  by  his  light  I 
go  through  darkness."^ 

In  this  light,  therefore,  he  came  to  the  end  of  the 
valley.  Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  at  the  end 
of  the  valley  lay  blood,  bones,  ashes,  and  mangled 
bodies  of  men,  even  of  pilgrims  that  had  gone  this 
way  formerly  ;  and  while  I  was  musing  what  should 
be  the  reason,  I  espied  a  little  before  me  a  cave, 
where  two  giants.  Pope  and  Pagan,  dwelt  in  old 
times,  by  whose  power  and  tyranny  the  men,  whose 
bones,  blood,  ashes,  etc.,  lay  there,  were  cruelly  put 
to  death.  But  by  this  place  Christian  went  without 
much  danger,  whereat  I  somewhat  wondered  ;  but  I 
have  learned  since,  that  Pagan  has  been  dead  many 
a  day ;  and  as  for  the  other,  though  he  be  yet  alive, 
he  is,  by  reason  of  age,  and  also  of  the  many  shrewd 
brushes  that  he  met  with  in  his  younger  days,  grown 
so  crazy  and  stiff  in  his  joints,  that  he  can  now  do 
little  more  than  sit  in  his  cave's  mouth,  grinning  at 
pilgrims  as  they  go  by,  and  biting  his  nails  because 
he  cannot  come  at  them. 

So  I  saw  that  Christian  went  on  his  way  ;  yet,  at 
the  sight  of  the  old  man  that  sat  at  the  mouth  of  the 
1  Job  xxix.  3. 


Cave  of  Pope  and  Pagan. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  125 

cave,  he  could  not  tell  what  to  think,  especially  be- 
cause he  spoke  to  him,  though  he  could  not  go  after 
him,  saying,  You  will  never  mend  till  more  of  you 
be  burnt.  But  he  held  his  peace,  and  set  a  good 
face  on  it ;  and  so  went  b}^,  and  catchcd  no  hurt- 
Then  sang  Christian — 

O  world  of  wonders  (I  can  say  no  less), 

That  I  should  be  preserved  in  that  distress 

That  I  have  met  with  here  !     Oh  blessed  be 

That  hand  that  from  it  hath  delivered  me  ! 

Dangers  in  darkness,  devils,  hell,  and  sin, 

Did  compass  me  while  I  this  vale  was  in : 

Yea,  snares,  and  pits,  and  traps,  and  nets  did  lie 

My  path  about,  that  worthless,  silly  I 

Might  have  been  catched,  entangled,  and  cast  down  : 

But  since  I  live,  let  Jesus  wear  the  crown. 

Now  as  Christian  went  on  his  way,  he  came  to  a 
little  ascent,  which  was  cast  up  on  purpose  that  pil- 
grims might  see  before  them  :  up  there,  therefore, 
Christian  went ;  and  looking  forward,  he  saw  Faith- 
ful before  him  upon  his  journey.  Then  said  Chris- 
tian aloud.  Ho,  ho  !  so-ho  !  stay,  and  I  will  be  your 
companion.  At  that  Faithful  looked  behind  him  ; 
to  whom  Christian  cried  again,  Stay,  stay,  till  I 
come  up  to  you  !  But  Faithful  answered,  No,  I  am 
i7pon  my  life,  and  the  avenger  of  blood  is  behind 
me. 


126  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

At  this  Christian  was  somewhat  moved,  and,  put- 
ting to  all  his  strength,  he  quickly  got  up  with 
Faithful,  and  did  also  overrun  him  ;  so  the  last  was 
first.  Then  did  Christian  vain-gloriously  smile,  be- 
cause he  had  gotten  the  start  of  his  brother  ;  but  not 
taking  good  heed  to  his  feet,  he  suddenly  stumbled 
and  fell,  and  could  not  rise  again,  until  Faithful 
came  up  to  help  him. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  they  went  very  lovingly 
on  together,  and  had  sweet  discourse  of  all  things 
that  had  happened  to  them  in  their  pilgrimage  ;  and 
thus  Christian  began. 

Chr.  My  honoured  and  well-beloved  brother 
Faithful,  I  am  glad  that  I  have  overtaken  you,  and 
that  God  has  so  tempered  our  spirits,  that  we  can 
walk  as  companions  in  this  so  pleasant  a  path. 

Faith.  I  had  thought,  dear  friend,  to  have  had 
your  company  quite  from  our  town,  but  you  did  get 
the  start  of  me  ;  wherefore  I  was  forced  to  come 
thus  much  of  the  way  alone. 

Chr.  How  long  did  you  stay  in  the  city  of  De- 
struction, before  you  set  out  after  me  on  your  pil- 
grimage? 

Faith.  Till  I  could  stay  no  longer  ;  for  there  was 
a  great  talk  presently  after  you  were  gone  out,  that 
our  city  would  in  a  short  time,  with  fire  from  heaven, 
be  burned  down  to  the  srround. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 37 

CiiR.  What!  did  your  neighbours  talk  so? 

Faith.  Yes,  it  was  for  a  while  in  everybody's 
mouth. 

CiiR.  What !  and  did  no  more  of  them  but  you 
come  out  tc  escape  the  danger? 

Faith.  Though  there  was,  as  I  said,  a  great  talk 
thereabout,  yet  I  do  not  think  they  did  firmly  believe 
it ;  for,  in  the  heat  of  the  discourse,  I  heard  some 
of  them  deridingly  speak  of  you  and  of  your  des- 
perate journey  (for  so  they  call  this  your  pilgrimage). 
But  I  did  believe,  and  do  still,  that  the  end  of  our 
city  will  be  with  fire  and  brimstone  from  above  ;  and 
therefore  I  have  made  my  escape. 

Chr.  Did  you  hear  no  talk  of  neighbour  Pliable  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  Christian,  I  heard  that  he  followed 
you  till  he  came  to  the  Slough  of  Despond,  where, 
as  some  said,  he  fell  in  ;  but  he  would  not  be  known 
to  have  so  done  ;  but  I  am  sure  he  was  soundly  be- 
dabbled with  that  kind  of  dirt. 

Chr.  And  what  said  the  neighbours  to  him  ? 

Faith.  He  hath,  since  his  going  back,  been  had 
greatly  in  derision,  and  that  among  all  sorts  of 
people  :  some  do  mock  and  despise  him,  and  scarce 
will  any  set  him  on  work.  He  is  now  seven  times 
worse  than  if  he  had  never  gone  out  of  the  city. 

Chr.  But  why  should  they  be  so  set  against  him, 
since  they  also  despise  the  way  that  he  forsook? 


•iaS  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Faith.  Oh,  they  say,  Hang  him  ;  he  is  a  turn 
COiti ;  he  was  not  true  to  his  profession  !     I  think 
God  has  stirred  up  even  his  enemies  to  hiss  at  hnn, 
and  maiie  him  a  proverb,  because  he  hath   forsaken 
the  way/ 

Chr.  Had  you  no  talk  with  him  before  you  came 
out? 

Faith,  1  met  him  once  in  the  streets,  but  he 
leered  away  on  the  other  side,  as  one  ashamed  of 
wliat  he  had  done :  so  I  spake  not  to  him. 

Chr.  Well,  at  my  first  setting  out,  I  had  hopes 
of  that  man  ;  but  now  I  fear  he  will  perish  in  the 
overthrow  of  the  city.  For  it  has  happened  to  him 
according  to  the  true  proverb,  "  The  dog  is  turned 
to  his  vomit  again,  and  the  sow  that  was  washed  to 
her  wallowing  in  the  mire."^ 

Faith.  These  are  my  fears  of  him  too :  but  who 
can  hinder  that  which  will  be .? 

Well,  neighbour  Faithful,  said  Christian,  let  us 
leave  him,  and  talk  of  things  that  more  immediatel3' 
concern  ourselves.  Tell  me  now  what  you  have 
met  with  in  the  way  as  you  came  ;  for  I  know  you 
have  met  with  some  things,  or  else  it  may  be  writ 
for  a  wonder. 

Faith.  I  escaped  the  slough  that  I  perceived  you 
fell  into,  and  got  up  to  the  gate  without  that  danger  : 
1  Ter.  xxix.  iSi,  19.  '^2  Pet.  ii.  22. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 29 

only  I  met  with  one  whose  name  was  Wanton,  that 
had  Hke  to  have  done  me  a  mischief. 

CiiR.  It  was  well  you  escaped  her  net :  Josepli 
was  hard  put  to  it  by  her,  and  he  escaped  her  as  you 
did  ;  but  it  had  like  to  have  cost  him  his  life.'  But 
what  did  she  do  to  you  } 

Faith.  You  cannot  think,  but  that  you  know 
something,  what  a  flattering  tongue  she  had  ;  she 
lay  at  me  hard  to  turn  aside  with  her,  jDromising  me 
all  manner  of  content. 

Chr.  Nay,  she  did  not  promise  you  the  content 
of  a  good  conscience. 

Faith.  You  know  that  I  mean  all  carnal  and 
fleshly  content. 

Chr.  Thank  God  you  have  escaped  her :  "  the 
abhorred  of  the  Lord  shall  fall  into  her  pit."  ^ 

Faith.  Nay,  I  do  not  know  whether  I  did  wholly 
escape  her,  or  no. 

Chr.  Why,  I  trow  you  did  not  consent  to  her 
desires. 

Faith.  No,  not  to  defile  myself,  for  I  remembered 
an  old  writing  that  I  had  seen,  which  said,  "  her 
steps  take  hold  of  hell."-'  So  I  shut  mine  eyes,  be- 
cause I  would  not  be  bewitched  with  her  looks  : — 
then  she  railed  on  me.  and  I  went  my  way. 

1  Gen.  xxxix.  11-13.  2  Prov.  xxii.  14. 

'  Prov.  V.  5  ;  Job  xxxi.  i. 


130  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  Did  you  meet  with  no  other  assault  as  you 
came  ? 

Faith.  When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  called 
Difficulty,  I  met  with  a  very  aged  man,  who  asked 
me  what  I  was,  and  whither  bound?  I  told  him 
that  I  was  a  pilgrim  going  to  the  celestial  city. 
Then  said  the  old  man.  Thou  lookest  like  an  honest 
fellow ;  wilt  thou  be  content  to  dwell  with  me,  for 
the  wages  that  I  shall  give  thee  ?  Then  I  asked  his 
name,  and  where  he  dwelt.  He  said,  his  name  was 
Adam  the  First,  and  that  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of 
Deceit.'  I  asked  him  then  what  was  his  work,  and 
what  the  wages  that  he  would  give.  He  told  me, 
that  his  work  was  many  delights ;  and  his  wages, 
that  I  should  be  his  heir  at  last.  I  further  asked  him 
what  house  he  kept,  and  what  other  servants  he  had. 
So  he  told  me,  that  his  house  was  maintained  with 
all  the  dainties  of  the  world,  and  that  his  servants 
were  those  of  his  own  begetting.  Then  I  asked 
how  many  children  he  had.  He  said,  that  he  had 
but  three  daughters,  "  the  Lust  of  the  Flesh,  the 
Lust  of  the  Eyes,  and  the  Pride  of  Life;"'^  And 
that  I  should  marry  them  if  I  would.  Then  I 
asked,  how  long  time  he  would  have  me  live 
with  him.  And  he  told  me,  as  long  as  he  lived 
himself. 

'  Eph.  iv.  28.  ^  I  John  ii.  16. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  131 

Chr.  Well,  and  what  conclusion  came  the  old 
man  and  you  to  at  last? 

Faith.  Why,  at  first  I  found  myself  somewhat 
inclinable  to  go  with  tlie  man,  for  I  thought  he  spoke 
very  fair ;  but  looking  in  his  forehead  as  I  talked 
with  him,  I  saw  there  written,  "  Put  off  the  old  man 
with  his  deeds." 

CiiR.  And  how  then? 

Faith.  Then  it  came  burning  hot  into  my  mind, 
whatever  he  said,  and  however  he  flattered,  when 
he  got  me  home  to  his  house,  he  would  sell  me  for  a 
slave.  So  I  bid  him  forbear  to  talk,  for  I  would  not 
come  near  the  door  of  his  house.  Then  he  reviled 
me,  and  told  me  that  he  would  send  such  a  one  after 
me,  that  should  make  my  way  bitter  to  my  soul. 
So  I  turned  to  go  away  from  him  :  but  just  as  I 
turned  myself  to  go  thence,  I  felt  him  take  hold  of 
my  flesh,  and  give  me  such  a  deadly  twitch  back, 
that  I  thought  he  had  pulled  part  of  me  after  him- 
self: this  made  me  cry,  O  wretched  man!' — So  I 
went  on  my  way  up  the  hill. 

Now,  when  I  had  got  about  half-way  up,  I  looked 
behind  me,  and  saw  one  coming  after  me,  swift  as 
the  wind  ;  so  he  overtook  me  just  about  the  place 
where  the  settle  stands. 

Just  there,  said  Christian,  did  I  sit  down  to  rest 
1  Rom.  vii.  24. 


132  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ine  ;  but  being  overcome  with  sleep,  I  there  lost  this 
roll  out  of  my  bosom. 

Faith.  But,  good  brother,  hear  me  out : — So 
soon  as  the  man  overtook  me,  he  was  but  a  word 
and  a  blow,  for  down  he  knocked  me,  and  laid  me 
for  dead.  But  when  I  was  a  little  come  to  myself 
again,  I  asked  him  wherefore  he  served  me  so.?  He 
said,  because  of  my  secret  inclining  to  Adam  the 
First ;  and  with  that  he  struck  me  another  deadly 
blow  on  the  breast,  and  beat  me  down  backward  : 
so  I  lay  at  his  foot  as  dead  as  before.  So  when  I 
came  to  myself  again,  I  cried  him  mercy  :  but  he 
said,  I  know  not  how  to  show  mercy  ;  and  with 
that  he  knocked  me  down  again.  He  had  doubtless 
made  an  end  of  me,  but  that  One  came  by,  and  bid 
him  forbear. 

Chr.  Who  was  that  that  bid  him  forbear.? 

Faith.  I  did  not  know  him  at  first ;  but  as  he 
went  by,  I  perceived  the  holes  in  his  hands  and  in 
his  side  ;  then  I  concluded  that  he  was  our  Lord. 
So  I  went  up  the  hill. 

Chr.  That  man  that  overtook  you  was  Moses. 
He  sparetli  none,  neither  knoweth  he  how  to  show 
mercy  to  those  that  transgress  his  law. 

Faith.  I  know  it  very  well ;  it  was  not  the  first 
time  that  he  has  met  with  me.  It  was  he  that  came 
to  me  when  I  dwelt  securely  at  home,  and  that  told 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  133 

me  he  would  burn  my  house  over  my  head  if  I  staid 
there. 

CiiR.  But  did  you  not  see  the  house  that  stood 
there  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  on  the  side  of  which 
Moses  met  you  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  and  the  lions  too,  before  I  came  at 
it: — but,  for  the  lions,  I  think  they  were  asleep  ;  for 
it  was  about  noon  : — and,  because  I  had  so  much  of 
the  day  before  me,  I  passed  by  the  Porter,  and  came 
down  the  hill. 

Chr.  He  told  me,  indeed,  that  he  saw  you  go  by  ; 
but  I  wish  that  you  had  called  at  the  house,  for  they 
would  have  showed  you  so  many  rarities,  that  you 
would  scarce  have  forgot  them  to  the  day  of  your 
death.  But  pray  tell  me,  did  you  meet  nobody  in 
the  valley  of  Humility.' 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  one  Discontent,  who 
would  willingly  have  persuaded  me  to  go  back  again 
with  him  :  his  reason  was,  for  that  the  valley  was 
altogether  without  honour.  He  told  me,  moreover, 
that  there  to  go  was  the  way  to  disoblige  all  my 
friends,  as  Pride,  Arrogancy,  Self-conceit,  Worldly- 
glory,  with  others,  who  he  knew,  as  he  said,  would 
be  very  much  offended  if  I  made  such  a  fool  of  my- 
self, as  to  wade  through  this  valley. 

Chr.  Well,  and  how  did  you  answer  him.? 

Faith.  I  told  him,  that  although  all  these  that  he 


t34  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

named  might  claim  a  kindred  ot  me,  and  that 
rightly  (for  indeed  they  were  my  relations  according 
to  the  flesh)  ;  yet  since  I  became  a  pilgrim,  they 
have  disowned  me,  and  I  also  have  rejected  them, 
and  therefore  they  were  to  me  now  no  more  than  if 
they  had  never  been  of  my  lineage.  I  told  him, 
moreover,  that  as  to  this  valley,  he  had  quite  mis- 
represented the  thing ;  for  "  before  honour  is  hu- 
mility," and  "  a  haughty  spirit  before  a  fall."  There- 
fore, said  I,  I  had  rather  go  through  this  valley  to  the 
honour  that  was  so  accounted  by  the  wisest,  than 
choose  that  which  he  esteemed  most  worthy  of  our 
affections. 

Chr.  Met  you  with  nothing  else  in  that  valley? 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame  ;  but  of  all  the 
men  that  I  met  with  on  my  pilgrimage,  he,  I  think, 
bears  the  wrong  name.  The  other  would  be  said 
nay,  after  a  little  argumentation  and  somewhat  else  : 
but  this  bold-faced  Shame  would  never  have  done. 

Chr.  Why,  what  did  he  say  to  you .'' 

Faith.  What !  why  he  objected  against  religion 
itself:  he  said,  it  was  a  pitiful,  low,  sneaking  busi- 
ness, for  a  man  to  mind  religion.  He  said,  that  a 
tender  conscience  was  an  unmanly  thing ;  and  that 
for  a  man  to  watch  over  his  words  and  ways,  so  as 
to  tie  up  himself  from  that  hectoring  liberty  that  the 
Dfave  spirits  of  the  times  accustom  themselves  unto, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  135 

would  make  him  the  ridicule  of  the  times.  He  ob- 
jected also,  that  but  few  of  tlie  mighty,  rich,  or  wise 
were  ever  of  my  opinion;  nor  any  of  them  neither 
before  they  were  persuaded  to  be  fools,  and  to  be  of 
a  voluntary  fondness  to  venture  the  loss  of  all  for 
nobody  knows  what.^  He  moreover  objected  the, 
base  and  low  estate  and  condition  of  those  that  were 
chiefly  the  pilgrims  of  the  times  in  which  they  lived  ; 
also  their  ignorance  and  want  of  understanding  in 
all  natural  science.  Yea,  he  did  hold  me  to  it  at 
that  rate  also  about  a  great  many  more  things  than 
here  I  relate  ;  as,  that  it  was  a  shame  to  sit  whining 
and  mourning  under  a  sermon,  and  a  shame  to  come 
sighing  and  groaning  home  ;  that  it  was  a  shame  to 
ask  my  neighbour  forgiveness  for  petty  faults,  or  to 
make  restitution  where  I  have  taken  from  any.  He 
said  also,  that  religion  made  a  man  grow  strange  to 
the  great,  because  of  a  few  vices,  which  he  called  by 
finer  names ;  and  made  him  own  and  respect  the 
base,  because  of  the  same  religious  fraternity :  And 
is  not  this,  said  he,  a  shame? 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  say  to  him? 

Faith.  Say?  I  could  not  tell  what  to  say  at  first. 
Yea,  he  put  me  so  to  it,  that  my  blood  came  up  in 
my  face  ;  even  this  Shame  fetched  it  up,  and  had  al- 
most beat  me  quite  oft'.     But  at  last  I  began  to  con- 
1  John  vii.  48 ;  I  Cor.  i.  26 ;  iii.  18 ;  Phil,  iii   7-9. 


13^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

sider,  that  that  which  is  highly  esteemed  among  men 
is  had  in  abomination  with  God.^  And  I  thought 
again,  this  Shame  tells  me  what  men  are,  but  it  tells 
me  nothing  what  God,  or  the  word  of  God,  is.  And 
I  thought,  moreover,  that  at  the  day  of  doom  we 
shall  not  be  doomed  to  death  or  life  according  to  the 
hectoring  spirits  of  the  world,  but  according  to  the 
wisdom  and  law  of  the  Highest.  Therefore,  thought 
I,  what  God  says  is  best,  indeed  is  best,  though  all 
the  men  in  the  world  are  against  it.  Seeing,  then, 
that  God  prefers  his  religion  ;  seeing  God  prefers  a 
tender  conscience  ;  seeing  they  that  make  themselves 
fools  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  are  wisest ;  and 
that  the  poor  man  that  loveth  Christ  is  richer  than 
the  greatest  man  in  the  world  that  hates  him  ;  Shame, 
depart,  thou  art  an  enemy  to  my  salvation  :  shall  I 
entertain  thee  against  my  sovereign  Lord?  how  then 
shall  I  look  him  in  the  face  at  his  coming.^  Should 
I  now  be  ashamed  of  his  ways  and  servants,  how 
can  I  expect  the  blessing?^  But  indeed  this  Shame 
was  a  bold  villain  ;  I  could  scarcely  shake  him  out 
of  my  company ;  yea,  he  would  be  haunting  of  me, 
and  continually  whispering  me  in  the  ear  with  some 
one  or  other  of  the  infirmities  that  attend  religion. 
But  at  last  I  told  him  that  it  was  but  in  vain  to  at- 
tempt further  in  this  business ;  for  those  things  that 
1  Luke  xvi.  15.  *  Mark  viii.  38. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  137 

he  disdained,  in  those  did  I  see  most  glory :  and  so 
at  hist  I  got  past  this  importunate  one.  And  when 
I  had  shaken  him  ofl',  then  I  began  to  sing — 

The  trials  that  those  men  do  meet  withal, 
That  are  obedient  to  the  heavenly  call, 
Arc  manifold,  and  suited  to  the  flesh; 
And  come,  and  come,  and  come  again  afresh  : 
That  now,  or  sometime  else,  we  by  them  may 
Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  away. 
Oh  let  the  pilgrims,  let  the  pilgrims  then. 
Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  men. 

Chr.  I  am  glad,  my  brother,  that  thou  didst  with- 
stand this  villain  so  bravely  ;  for,  of  all,  as  thou  say- 
est,  I  think  he  has  the  wrong  name  ;  for  he  is  so  bold 
as  to  follow  us  into  the  streets,  and  to  attempt  to  put 
us  to  shame  before  all  men  ;  that  is,  to  make  us 
ashamed  of  that  which  is  good.  But  if  he  was  not 
himself  audacious,  he  would  never  attempt  to  do  as 
he  does :  but  let  us  still  resist  him  ;  for,  notwith- 
standing all  his  bravadoes,  he  promoteth  the  fool, 
and  none  else.  The  wise  shall  inherit  glory,  said 
Solomon,  but  shame  shall  be  the  promotion  of 
fools.' 

Faith.  I  think  we  must  cry,  for  help  against 
Shame,  to  Him  that  would  have  us  to  be  valiant  for 
truth  upon  the  earth, 

Prov.  iii.  35. 


138  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  You  say  true  ;  but  did  you  meet  nobody 
else  in  that  valley? 

Faith.  No,  not  I ;  for  I  had  sunshine  all  the  rest 
of  the  way  through  that,  and  also  through  the  Valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 

Chr.  'Twas  well  for  you  ;  I  am  sure  it  fared  far 
otherwise  with  me.  I  had  for  a  long  season,  as  soon 
almost  as  I  entered  into  that  valley,  a  dreadful  com- 
bat with  that  foul  fiend  Apollyon  ;  yea,  I  thought 
verily  he  would  have  killed  me,  especially  when  he 
got  me  down,  and  crushed  me  under  him,  as  if  he 
would  have  crushed  me  to  pieces ;  for  as  he  threw 
me,  my  sword  flew  out  of  my  hand :  nay,  he  told 
me  he  was  sure  of  me  ;  but  I  cried  to  God,  and  he 
heard  me,  and  delivered  me  out  of  all  my  troubles. 
Then  I  entered  into  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death,  and  had  no  light  for  almost  half  the  way 
through  it.  I  thought  I  should  have  been  killed 
there  over  and  over :  but  at  last  day  brake,  and  the 
sun  rose,  and  I  went  through  that  which  was  behind 
with  far  more  ease  and  quiet. 

Moreover,  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that,  as  they  went 
on,  Faithful,  as  he  chanced  to  look  on  one  side,  saw 
a  man  whose  name  was  Talkative,  walking  at  a  dis- 
tance beside  them  ;  for  in  this  place  there  was  room 
enough  for  them  all  to  walk.  He  was  a  tall  man, 
and  something  more  comely  at  a  distance  than  at 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  139 

hand.  To  this  man  Faithful  addressed  himself  in 
this  manner. 

Faith.  Friend,  whither  away.''  Are  you  going  to 
the  heavenly  country.^ 

Talk.  I  am  going  to  that  same  place. 

Faith.  That  is  well :  then  I  hope  we  shall  have 
your  good  company. 

Talk.  With  a  very  good  will,  will  I  be  your  com- 
panion. 

Faith.  Come  on,  then,  and  let  us  go  together,  and 
let  us  spend  our  time  in  discoursing  of  things  that 
are  profitable. 

Talk.  To  talk  of  things  that  are  good,  to  me  is 
very  acceptable,  with  you,  or  with  any  other  ;  and 
I  am  glad  that  I  have  met  with  those  that  incline  to 
so  good  a  work ;  for,  to  speak  the  truth,  there  are 
but  few  who  care  thus  to  spend  their  time  as  they 
are  in  their  travels,  but  choose  much  rather  to  be 
speaking  of  things  to  no  profit ;  and  this  hath  been 
a  trouble  to  me. 

Faith.  That  is,  indeed,  a  thing  to  be  lamented  ; 
for  what  things  so  worthy  of  the  use  of  the  tongue 
and  mouth  of  men  on  earth,  as  are  the  things  of  the 
God  of  heaven.'' 

Talk.  I  like  you  wonderfully  well,  for  your  say- 
ing is  full  of  conviction  ;  and  I  will  add,  what  thing 
is  so  pleasant,  and  what  so  profitable,  as  to  talk  of 


140  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  things  of  God?  What  thhigs  so  pleasant?  that 
is,  if  a  man  hath  any  dcHght  in  things  that  are  won- 
derfuL  For  instance  :  if  a  man  doth  delight  to  talk 
of  the  history  or  the  mystery  of  things ;  or  if  a  man 
doth  love  to  talk  of  miracles,  wonders,  or  signs, 
where  shall  he  find  things  recorded  so  delightful,  and 
so  sweetly  penned  as  in  the  holy  Scripture? 

Fai  TH.  That's  true  ;  but  to  be  profited  by  such 
things  in  our  talk,  should  be  that  which  we  design. 

Talk.  That  is  it  that  I  said  ;  for  to  talk  of  such 
things  is  most  profitable  ;  for  by  so  doing  a  man  may 
get  knowledge  of  many  things ;  as,  of  the  vanity  of 
earthly  things,  and  the  benefit  of  things  above. 
Thus  in  general :  but  more  particularly,  by  this  a 
man  may  learn  the  necessity  of  the  new  birth,  the 
insufficiency  of  our  works,  the  need  of  Christ's 
righteousness,  etc.  Besides,  by  this  a  man  may 
learn  what  it  is  to  repent,  to  believe,  to  pray,  to  suf- 
fer, or  the  like  :  by  this  also  a  man  may  learn  what 
are  the  great  promises  and  consolations  of  the  gos- 
pel, to  his  own  comfort.  Further,  by  this  a  man 
may  learn  to  refute  false  opinions,  to  vindicate  the 
truth,  and  also  to  instruct  the  ignorant. 

Faith.  All  this  is  true  ;  and  glad  am  I  to  hear 
these  things  from  you. 

Talk.  Alas  !  the  want  of  this  is  the  cause  that  so 
few  understand  the  need  of  faith,  and  the  necessity 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  141 

of  a  work  of  grace  in  their  soul,  in  order  to  eternal 
life  ;  but  ignorantly  live  in  the  works  of  the  law,  by 
which  a  man  can  by  no  means  obtain  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

Faith.  But,  by  your  leave,  heavenly  knowledge 
ol  these  is  the  gift  of  God  ;  no  man  attaincth  to 
them  by  human  industry,  or  only  by  the  talk  of 
thcni. 

Talk.  All  that  I  know  very  well ;  for  a  man  can 
receive  nothing,  except  it  be  given  him  from  heaven  : 
all  is  of  grace,  not  of  works.  I  could  give  you  a 
hundred  scriptures  for  the  confirmation  of  this. 

Well,  then,  said  Faithful,  what  is  that  one  thing 
that  we  shall  at  this  time  found  our  discourse  upon? 

Talk.  What  you  will :  I  will  talk  of  things 
heavenly,  or  things  earthly  ;  things  moral,  or  things 
evangelical  ;  things  sacred,  or  things  profane  ;  things 
past,  or  things  to  come  ;  things  foreign,  or  things  at 
home  ;  things  more  essential,  or  things  circumstan- 
tial, provided  that  all  be  done  to  our  profit. 

Now  did  Faithful  begin  to  wonder  ;  and  stepping 
to  Christian  (for  he  walked  all  this  while  by  himself), 
he  said  to  him,  but  softly.  What  a  brave  companion 
have  we  got !  Surely  this  man  will  make  a  very  ex- 
cellent pilgrim. 

At  this  Christian  modestly  smiled,  and  said.  This 
man,  with  whom   you   are   so  taken,  will    beguile 


142  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

with  this  tongue  of  his,  twenty  of  them  that  know 
him  not. 

Faith.  Do  you  know  him,  then.? 

Chr.  Know  him  !  Yes,  better  than  he  knows 
himself. 

Faith.  Pray,  what  is  he. 

Chr.  His  name  is  Talkative  :  he  dwelleth  in  our 
town.  I  wonder  that  you  should  be  a  stranger  to 
him  ;  only  I  consider  that  our  town  is  large. 

Faith.  Whose  son  is  he.^  and  whereabout  doth 
he  dwell .'' 

Chr.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Say-well,  he  dwelt  in 
Prating-row  ;  and  he  is  known  to  all  that  are  ac- 
quainted with  him  by  the  name  of  Talkative  of 
Prating-row  ;  and,  notwithstanding  his  fine  tongue, 
he  is  but  a  sorry  fellow. 

Faith.  Well,  he  seems  to  be  a  very  pretty  man. 

Chr.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  a  thorough 
acquaintance  with  him,  for  he  is  best  abroad  ;  near 
home  he  is  ugly  enough.  Your  saying  that  he  is  a 
pretty  man,  brings  to  my  mind  what  I  have  ob- 
served in  the  work  of  the  painter,  whose  pictures 
show  best  at  a  distance ;  but  very  near,  more  un- 
pleasing. 

Faith.  But  I  am  ready  to  think  you  do  but  jest, 
because  you  smiled. 

Chr.    God  forbid   that  I  should   jest,   though   I 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 43 

smiled,  in  this  matter,  or  that  I  sliould  accuse  any 
falsely.  I  will  give  you  a  further  discovery  of  him. 
This  man  is  for  any  company,  and  for  any  talk  ;  as 
he  talketh  now  with  you,  so  will  he  talk  when  he  is 
on  the  ale-bench  ;  and  the  more  drink  he  hath  in  his 
crown,  the  more  of  these  things  he  hath  in  his 
mouth.  Religion  hath  no  place  in  his  heart,  or 
house,  or  conversation ;  all  he  hath  lieth  in  his 
tongue,  and  his  religion  is  to  make  a  noise  therewith. 

Faith.  Say  you  so.''  Then  am  I  in  this  man 
greatly  deceived. 

Chr.  Deceived !  you  may  be  sure  of  it.  Re- 
member the  proverb,  "They  say,  and  do  not:"  but 
the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  word,  but  in  power. ^ 
He  talketh  of  prayer,  of  repentance,  of  faith,  and 
of  the  new  birth  ;  but  he  knows  but  only  to  talk  of 
them.  I  have  been  in  his  family,  and  have  observed 
him  both  at  home  and  abroad  ;  and  I  know  what  I 
say  of  him  is  the  truth.  His  house  is  as  empty  of 
religion  as  the  white  of  an  g,^^  is  of  savour.  There 
is  there  neither  prayer,  nor  sign  of  repentance  for 
sin  ;  yea,  the  brute,  in  his  kind,  serves  God  far  better 
than  he.  He  is  the  very  stain,  reproach,  and  shame 
of  religion  to  all  that  know  him  ;^  it  can  hardly  have 
a  good  word  in  all  that  end  of  the  town  where  he 
dwells,  through  him.  Thus  say  the  common  people 
1  Matt,  xxiii.  3 ;  i  Cor.  iv.  20.  *  Rom.  ii.  23,  24. 


144  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  know  him,  "  A  saint  abroad,  and  a  devil  at 
home."  His  poor  family  finds  it  so  ;  he  is  such  a 
churl,  such  a  railer  at,  and  so  unreasonable  with  his 
servants,  that  they  neither  know  how  to  do  for,  or  to 
speak  to  him.  Men  that  have  any  dealings  with 
him  say,  It  is  better  to  deal  with  a  Turk  than  with 
him,  for  fairer  dealings  they  shall  have  at  their 
hands.  This  Talkative,  if  it  be  possible,  will  go  be- 
yond them,  defraud,  beguile,  and  overreach  them. 
Besides,  he  brings  up  his  sons  to  follow  his  steps ; 
and  if  he  finds  in  any  of  them  a  foolish  timorous- 
ness  (for  so  he  calls  the  first  appearance  of  a  tender 
conscience),  he  calls  them  fools  and  blockheads, 
and  b}'  no  means  will  employ  them  in  much,  or 
speak  to  their  commendation  before  others.  For  my 
part,  I  am  of  opinion,  that  he  has,  by  his  wicked 
life,  caused  many  to  stumble  and  fall ;  and  will  be, 
if  God  prevents  not,  the  ruin  of  many  more. 

Faith.  Well,  my  brother,  I  am  bound  to  believe 
you,  not  only  because  you  say  you  know  him,  but 
also  because,  like  a  Christian,  you  make  your  re- 
ports of  men.  For  I  cannot  think  that  you  speak 
these  things  of  ill-will,  but  because  it  is  even  so  as 
you  say. 

CiiR.  Had  I  known  him  no  more  than  you,  I 
might,  perhaps,  have  thought  of  him  as  at  the  first 
you   did  ;    yea,   had   I  received   this  report  at  their 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 45 

hands  only  that  are  enemies  to  religion,  I  shoul:' 
have  thought  it  had  been  a  slander, — a  lot  that  often 
falls  from  bad  men's  mouths  upon  good  men's  names 
and  professions.  But  all  these  things,  yea,  and  a 
great  many  more  as  bad,  of  my  own  knowledge,  I 
can  prove  him  guilty  of.  Besides,  good  men  are 
ashamed  of  him  ;  they  can  neither  call  him  brother 
nor  friend  ;  the  very  naming  of  him  among  them 
makes  them  blush,  if  they  know  him. 

Faith.  Well,  I  see  that  saying  and  doing  are  two 
things,  and  hereafter  I  shall  better  observe  this  dis- 
tinction. 

Chr.  They  are  two  things  indeed,  and  are  as  di- 
verse as  are  the  soul  and  the  body ;  for,  as  tlie  body 
without  the  soul  is  but  a  dead  carcase,  so  saying,  if 
it  be  alone,  is  but  a  dead  carcase  also.  The  soul 
of  religion  is  the  practical  part.  "  Pure  religion 
and  undcfiled  before  God  and  the  Father,  is  this,  to 
visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction, 
and  to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world."' 
Tiiis,  Talkative  is  not  aware  of;  he  thinks  that  hear- 
ing and  saying  will  make  a  good  Christian;  and 
thus  he  deceiveth  his  own  soul.  Hearing  is  but  as 
the  sowing  of  the  seed  ;  talking  is  not  sufficient  to 
prove  that  fruit  is  indeed  in  the  heart  and  life.  And 
let  us  assure  ourselves,  that  at  the  day  of  doom,  men 

1  James  i.  22-27. 
10 


146  THE  PIL GRIM 'S  PRO GRESS. 

shall  be  judged  according  to  their  fruits.'  It  will 
not  be  said  then,  Did  you  believe?  but,  Were  yon 
doers,  or  talkers  only  ?  and  accordingly  shall  they  be 
judged.  The  end  of  the  world  is  compared  to  our 
harvest ;  and  you  know,  men  at  harvest  regard 
nothing  but  fruit.  Not  that  anything  can  be  ac- 
cepted that  is  not  of  faith  ;  but  I  speak  this  to  show 
you  how  insignificant  the  profession  of  Talkative 
will  be  at  that  day. 

Faith.  This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of  Moses,  by 
which  he  describeth  the  beast  that  is  clean.'  He  is 
such  an  one  that  parteth  the  hoof,  and  cheweth  the 
cud  ;  not  that  parteth  the  hoof  only,  or  that  cheweth 
the  cud  only.  The  hare  cheweth  the  cud,  but  yet  is 
unclean,  because  he  parteth  not  the  hoof.  And 
this  truly  resembleth  Talkative ;  he  cheweth  the 
cud,  he  seeketh  knowledge  ;  he  cheweth  upon  the 
word,  but  he  divideth  not  the  hoof.  He  parteth  not 
with  the  way  of  sinners  ;  but,  as  the  hare,  he  re- 
taineth  the  foot  of  a  dog  or  bear,  and  therefore  he  is 
unclean. 

Chr.  You  have  spoken,  for  aught  I  know,  the 
true  gospel  sense  of  these  texts  ;  and  I  will  add  an- 
other thing :  Paul  calleth  some  men,  yea,  and  those 
great  talkers  too,  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cym- 
bals ;  that  is,  as  he  expounds  them  in  another  place, 
iMatt.  xiii.  23.  '  Lev.  xi.  ;  Deut.  xiv. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  147 

things  without  life,  giving  sound. ^  Things  without 
life  ;  that  is,  without  the  true  faith  and  grace  of  the 
gospel ;  and,  consequently,  things  that  shall  never 
be  placed  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  among  those 
that  are  the  children  of  life  ;  though  their  sound,  by 
their  talk,  be  as  if  it  were  the  tongue  or  voice  of  an 
angel. 

Faith.  Well,  I  was  not  so  fond  of  his  company 
at  first,  as  I  am  sick  of  it  now.  What  shall  v\'e  do 
to  be  rid  of  him  ? 

Chr.  Take  my  advice  and  do  as  I  bid  you,  and 
you  shall  find  that  he  will  soon  be  sick  of  your 
company  too,  except  God  shall  touch  his  heart  and 
turn  it. 

Faith.  What  would  you  have  me  to  do  } 

Chr.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some  serious 
discourse  about  \S.\q  power  of  religion  ;  and  ask  him 
plainly,  when  he  has  approved  of  it  (for  that  he 
will),  whether  this  thing  be  set  uj)  in  his  heart, 
house,  or  conversation. 

Then  Faithful  stepped  forward  again,  and  said  to 
Talkative,  Come,  what  cheer.''  how  is  it  now.'* 

Talk.  Thank  you,  well ;  I  thought  we  should 
have  had  a  great  deal  of  talk  by  this  time. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will,  we  will  fall  to  it  now: 
and  since  you  left  it  with  me  to  state  the  question, 
'  I  Cor.  xiii.  1-3 ;  xiv.  7. 


14S  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

let  it  be  this  :   How  doth   the   saving  grace  of  God 
discover  .tself  when  it  is  in  the  heart  of  man? 

Talk.  I  perceive,'  then,  that  our  talk  must  be 
about  the  power  of  things.  Well  it  is  a  very  good 
question,  and  I  shall  be  willing  to  answer  you  ;  and 
take  my  answer  in  brief  thus :  First,  where  the 
grace  of  God  is  in  the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great 
outcry  against  sin.      Secondly, — 

Faith.  Nay,  hold  :  let  us  consider  of  one  at  once. 
I  think  you  should  rather  say.  It  shows  itself  by  in- 
clining the  soul  to  abhor  its  sin. 

Talk.  Why,  what  difference  is  there  between 
crying  out  against,  and  abhorring  of  sin  } 

Faith.  Oh,  a  great  deal !  A  man  may  cry  out 
against  sin,  of  policy  ;  but  he  cannot  abhor  it  but  by 
virtue  of  a  godly  antipathy  against  it.  I  have  heard 
many  cry  out  against  sin  in  the  pulpit,  who  yet  can 
abide  it  well  enough  in  the  heart,  house,  and  con- 
versation. Joseph's  mistress  cried  out  with  a  loud 
voice,  as  if  she  had  been  very  holy  ;  but  she  would 
willingl}',  notwithstanding  that,  have  committed  un- 
cleanness  with  him.^  Some  cry  out  against  sin,  even 
as  the  mother  cries  out  against  her  child  in  her  lap, 
when  she  calls  it  slut  and  naughty  girl,  and  then 
f;dls  to  hugging  and  kissing  it. 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch,  I  perceive. 
^  jen.  xxxix.  11-15. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  149 

Faith.  No,  not  I ;  I  am  only  for  setting  thing's 
right.  But  what  is  the  second  thing  whereby  von 
would  prove  a  discovery  of  a  work  of  grace  in  the 
heart  ? 

Talk.  Great  knowledge  of  gospel  mysteries. 

Faith.  This  sign  should  have  been  first:  but,  first 
or  last,  it  is  also  false  ;  for  knowledge,  great  know- 
ledge, may  be  obtained  in  the  m3steries  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  yet  no  work  of  grace  in  the  soul.^  Yea,  if 
a  man  have  all  knowledge,  he  may  yet  be  nothing, 
and  so,  consequently,  be  no  child  of  God.  When 
Christ  said,  "Do  ye  know  all  these  things?"  and  the 
disciples  had  answered,  Yes,  he  added,  "Blessed  are 
ye,  if  ye  do  them."  He  doth  not  lay  the  blessing  in 
the  knowing  of  them,  but  in  the  doing  of  them. 
For  there  is  a  knowledge  that  is  not  attended  with 
doing:  "he  that  knoweth  his  master's  will,  and 
doeth  it  not."  A  man  may  know  like  an  angel,  and 
yet  be  no  Christian  :_  therefore  your  sign  of  it  is  not 
true.  Indeed,  to  know  is  a  thing  that  pleaseth 
talkers  and  boasters ;  but  to  do^  is  that  which 
pleaseth  God.  Not  that  the  heart  can  be  good  with- 
out knowledge,  for  without  that  the  heart  is  naught. 
Tliere  is,  therefore,  knowledge  and  knowledge : 
knowledge  that  resteth  in  the  bare  speculation  of 
things,  and  knowledge  that  is  accompanied  with  the 
'  I  Cor.  xiii.  2. 


150  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

grace  of  faith  and  love,  which  puis  a  man  upon 
doing  even  the  will  of  God  from  the  heart :  the  first 
of  these  will  serve  the  talker ;  but  without  the  other, 
the  true  Christian  is  not  content.  "  Give  me  under- 
standing, and  I  shall  keep  thy  law  ;  yea,  I  shall  ob- 
serve it  with  my  whole  heart."  ^ 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch  again  ;  this  is  not  for 
edification. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  please,  propound  another 
sign  how  this  work  of  grace  discovereth  itself  where 
it  is. 

Talk.  Not  I ;  for  I  see  we  shall  not  agree. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will  not,  will  you  give  me 
leave  to  do  it? 

Talk.  You  may  use  your  liberty. 

Faith.  A  work  of  grace  in  the  soul  discovereth 
itself,  either  to  him  that  hath  it,  or  to  standers-by. 

To  him  that  hath  it,  thus :  It  gives  him  conviction 
of  sin,  especially  of  the  defilement  of  his  nature,  and 
the  sin  of  unbelief,  for  the  sake  of  which  he  is  sure 
to  be  damned,  if  he  findeth  not  mercy  at  God's  hand, 
by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.^  This  sight  and  sense  of 
things  worketh  in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for  sin  ;  he 
finde/h,  moreover,  revealed  in  him  the  Saviour  of 
th  I  world,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  closing  with 

1  Ps.  cxix.  34. 

2  Mark  xvi.  16;  John  xvi.  8,  9 ;  Rom.  vii.  24. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  131 

him  for  life  ;  at  the  which  he  findcth  hungerings  and 
thirstings  after  him  ;  to  which  hungerings,  etc.,  the 
promise  is  made.'  Now,  according  to  the  strength 
or  weakness  of  his  faith  in  his  Saviour,  so  is  his  joy 
and  peace,  so  is  his  love  to  holiness,  so  are  his  de- 
sires to  know  him  more,  and  also  to  serve  him  in 
this  world.  But  though,  I  say,  it  discovereth  itself 
thus  unto  him,  yet  it  is  but  seldom  that  he  is  able  to 
conclude  that  this  is  a  work  of  grace  ;  because  his 
corruptions  now,  and  his  abused  reason,  make  his 
mind  to  misjudge  in  this  matter :  therefore  in  him 
Ihat  hath  this  work  there  is  requii"ed  a  very  sound 
judgment,  before  he  can  with  steadiness  conclude 
that  this  is  a  work  of  grace. 

To  others  it  is  thus  discovered  : 

First,  By  an  experimental  confession  of  his  faith 
in  Christ.  Secondly,  By  a  life  answerable  to  that 
confession  ;  to  wit,  a  life  of  holiness ;  heart-holiness, 
family-holiness  (if  he  hath  a  family),  and  by  conver- 
sation-holiness in  the  world  ;  wdiich  in  the  general 
teacheth  him  inwardly  to  abhor  his  sin,  and  himself 
for  that,  in  secret ;  to  suppress  it  in  his  family,  and 
to  promote  holiness  in  the  world  :  not  by  talk  only, 
as  an  hypocrite  or  talkative  person  may  do,  but  by 
a  practical  subjection  in  faith  and  love  to  the  power 

'  Ps.  xxxviii.  18;  Jer.  xxxi.  19;  Matt.  v.  6;  Acts  iv.  12;  Gal. 
L  15,  16;  Rev.  xxi.  6. 


153  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

of  the  word.^  And  now,  sir,  as  to  this  brief  de- 
scription of  the  work  of  grace,  and  also  the  dis- 
covery of  it,  if  you  have  aught  to  object,  object ;  if 
not,  then  give  me  leave  to  propound  to  you  a  second 
question. 

Talk.  Nay,  my  part  is  not  now  to  object,  but 
to  hear  :  let  me,  therefore,  have  your  second  question. 

Faith.  It  is  this :  Do  you  experience  this  first 
part  of  the  description  of  it?  and  doth  your  life  and 
conversation  testify  the  same .?  Or  standeth  your  re- 
ligion in  word  or  tongue,  and  not  in  deed  and  truth.'' 
Pray,  if  you  incline  to  answer  me  in  this,  say  no 
more  than  you  know  the  God  above  will  say  amen 
to  ;  and  also  nothing  but  what  your  conscience  can 
justify  you  in  :  "  for  not  he  that  commendeth  him- 
self Is  approved,  but  whom  the  Lord  commendeth." 
Besides,  to  say  I  am  thus  and  thus,  when  my  con- 
versation and  all  my  neiglibours  tell  me  I  lie,  is  great 
wickedness. 

Then  Talkative  at  first  began  to  blush  ;  but  recov- 
ering himself,  thus  he  replied  :  You  come  now  to 
experience,  to  conscience,  and  God  ;  and  to  appeal 
to  him  for  justification  of  what  is  spoken.  This 
kind  of  discourse  I  did  not  expect ;  nor  am  I  dis- 
posed to  give  an  answer  to  such  questions:  because 

1  Ps.  1.  23  ;  Ezek.  xx.  43,  44 ;  Matt.  v.  8 ;  John  xiv.  15  ;  Rom. 
X.  9,  10;  Phil.  iii.  17-20. 


ThE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  153 

I  count  not  myself  bound  thereto,  unless  yon  take 
upon  you  to  be  a  catechiser ;  and  though  you  should 
so  do,  yet  I  may  refuse  to  make  you  my  judge.  But, 
I  pray,  will  you  tell  me  why  you  ask  me  such 
questions? 

Faith.  Because  I  saw  you  forward  to  talk,  and 
because  I  knew  not  that  you  had  aught  else  but  no- 
tion. Besides,  to  tell  you  all  the  truth,  I  have  heard 
of  you,  that  you  are  a  man  whose  religion  lies  in 
talk,  and  that  your  conversation  gives  this  your 
mouth-profession  the  lie.  They  say  you  are  a  spot 
among  Christians  ;  and  that  religion  fareth  the  worse 
for  your  ungodly  conversation  ;  that  some  have  al- 
ready stumbled  at  your  wicked  ways,  and  that  more 
are  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  thereby  ;  your  re- 
ligion and  an  ale-house,  and  covetousness,  and  un- 
cleanness,  and  swearing,  and  lying,  and  vain  com- 
pany-keeping, etc.,  will  stand  together.  The  proverb 
is  true  of  you  which  is  said  of  a  harlot,  to  wit,  that 
"she  is  a  shame  to  all  women  ;"  so  are  you  a  shame 
to  all  professors. 

Talk.  Since  you  are  so  ready  to  take  up  reports, 
and  to  judge  so  rashly  as  you  do,  I  cannot  but  con- 
clude you  are  some  peevish  or  melancholic  man,  not 
fit  to  be  discoursed  with  :  and  so,  adieu. 

Then  came  up  Christian,  and  said  to  his  brother, 
I  told  you   how  it  would   happen  ;  your  words  and 


154  ^^^  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

his  lusts  could  not  agree.  He  had  rather  leave  your 
company  than  reform  his  life  ;  but  he  is  gone,  as  I 
said  :  let  him  go,  the  loss  is  no  man's  but  his  own. 
He  has  saved  us  the  trouble  of  going  from  him  ;  for 
he  continuing  (as  I  suppose  he  v^'ill  do)  as  he  is, 
would  have  been  but  a  blot  in  our  company :  be- 
sides, the  apostle  says,  "  From  such  withdraw 
thyself." 

Faith.  But  I  am  glad  we  had  this  little  discourse 
with  him  ;  it  may  happen  that  he  will  think  of  it 
again  ;  however,  I  have  dealt  plainly  with  him,  and 
so  am  clear  of  his  blood  if  he  perisheth. 

Chr.  You  did  well  to  talk  so  plainly  to  him  as 
you  did ;  there  is  but  little  of  this  faithful  dealing 
with  men  now-a-days,  and  that  makes  religion  to 
stink  so  in  the  nostrils  of  many  as  it  doth  :  for  they 
are  these  talkative  fools,  whose  religion  is  only  in 
word,  and  are  debauched  and  vain  in  their  conversa- 
tion, that,  being  so  much  admitted  into  the  fellow- 
lowship  of  the  godly,  do  puzzle  the  world,  blemish 
Christianity,  and  grieve  the  sincere.  I  wish  that  all 
men  would  deal  with  such  as  you  have  done  ;  then 
should  they  either  be  made  more  conformable  to 
religion,  or  the  company  of  saints  would  be  too  hot 
for  them.     Then  did  Faithful  say — 

How  Talkative  at  first  lifts  up  his  plumes  ! 
How  bravely  doth  he  speak  !     How  he  presumes 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  155 

,  To  drive  down  all  before  him  !     But  so  soon 

As  Faithful  talks  of  heart-work,  like  the  moon 
That's  past  the  full,  into  the  wane  he  goes  ; 
And  so  will  all  but  he  that  heart-work  knows. 

Thus  they  went  on,  talking  of  what  they  had  seer 
by  the  way,  and  so  made  that  way  easy,  whicl 
would  otherwise,  no  doubt,  have  been  tedious  to 
them  :  for  now  they  went  through  a  wilderness. 

Now,  when  they  were  got  almost  quite  out  of  this 
wilderness,  Faithful  chanced  to  cast  his  eye  back, 
and  espied  one  coming  after  them,  and  he  knew  him. 
Oh  !  said  Faithful  to  his  brother,  who  comes  yon- 
der.^— Then  Christian  looked,  and  said.  It  is  my 
good  friend  Evangelist.  Ay,  and  my  good  friend 
too,  said  Faithful,  for  it  was  he  that  set  me  in  the 
way  to  the  Gate,  Now  was  Evangelist  come  up 
unto  them,  and  thus  saluted  them. 

EvAx.  Peace  be  with  you,  dearly  beloved  ;  and 
peace  be  to  your  helpers. 

Chr.  Welcome,  welcome,  my  good  Evangelist ; 
the  sight  of  thy  countenance  brings  to  my  remem- 
brance thy  ancient  kindness  and  unwearied  labours 
for  my  eternal  good. 

And  a  thousand  times  welcome,  said  good  Faith- 
ful ;  thy  company,  O  sweet  Evangelist,  how  desir- 
able is  it  to  us  poor  pilgrims  ! 

T'.ien   said    Evangelist,   How   hath   it   fared  with 


156  THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS. 

you,  my  friends,  since  the  time  of  our  last  parting? 
What  have  you  met  with,  and  how  have  you  be- 
haved yourselves  ? 

Then  Christian  and  Faithful  told  him  of  all  things 
that  had  happened  to  them  in  the  way  ;  and  how, 
and  with  what  difficulty,  they  had  arrived  to  that 
place. 

Right  glad  am  I,  said  Evangelist,  not  that  you 
have  met  with  trials,  but  that  you  have  been  victors, 
and  for  that  you  have,  notwithstanding  many  weak- 
nesses, continued  in  the  way  to  this  A'xy. 

I  say,  right  glad  am  I  of  this  thing,  and  that  for 
mine  own  sake  and  yours.  I  have  sowed,  and  you 
have  reaped  ;  and  the  day  is  coming,  when  "  both 
he  that  soweth  and  they  that  reap  shall  rejoice  to- 
gether ;"  that  is,  if  you  hold  out;  "for  in  due  time 
ye  shall  reap  if  ye  fiiint  not."^  The  crown  is  before 
you,  and  it  is  an  incorruptible  one  ;  "  so  run,  tliat 
you  may  obtain  it."  Some  there  be  that  set  out  for 
this  crown,  and  after  they  have  gone  far  for  it,  an- 
other comes  in  and  takes  it  from  them  ;  "  hold  fast, 
therefore,  that  you  have ;  let  no  man  take  your 
crown." ^  You  are  not  yet  out  of  the  gun-shot  of 
the  devil :  "  you  have  not  resisted  unto  blood,  striv- 
ing against  sin  :"  let  the  kingdom  be  always  before 
you,   and  believe   steadfastly   concerning  the   things 

^  John  iv.  36;  Gal.  vi.  9.  2  i  Qqx.  ix.  24-27  ;  Rev.  iii.  11. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  157 

that  are  invisible  :  let  nothing  that  is  on  this  side  the 
other  world  get  within  you  :  and  above  all,  look  well 
to  your  own  hearts  and  to  the  lusts  thereof,  for  they 
are  "  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked."  Set  your  faces  like  a  flint ;  you  have  all 
power  in  heaven  and  earth  on  your  side. 

Then  Christian  thanked  him  for  his  exhortation  ; 
but  told  him  withal,  that  they  would  have  him  speak 
further  to  them  for  their  help  the  rest  of  the  way ; 
and  the  rather,  for  that  they  well  knew  that  he  was 
a  prophet,  and  could  tell  them  of  things  that  might 
happen  unto  them,  and  also  how  they  might  resist 
and  overcome  them.  To  which  request  Faithful 
also  consented.     So  Evangelist  began  as  followeth. 

EvAX.  My  sons,  you  have  heard  in  the  words  of 
the  truth  of  the  gospel,  "  that  you  must  through 
manv  tribulations  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
And  again,  that  "  in  every  city  bonds  and  afflictions 
abide  you  ;"  and  therefore  you  cannot  expect  that 
you  should  go  long  on  your  pilgrimage  without 
them,  in  some  sort  or  other.  You  have  found  some- 
thing of  the  truth  of  these  testimonies  upon  you  al- 
ready, and  more  will  immediatelv  follow  :  for  now, 
as  you  see,  you  are  almost  out  of  this  wilderness, 
and  therefore  you  will  soon  come  into  a  town  that 
you  will  by  and  by  see  before  you  :  and  in  that  town 
you  will  be   hardly  beset  with   enemies,   who   will 


tSS  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

strain  hard  but  they  will  kill  you  :  and  be  }  on  sure 
that  one  or  both  of  you  must  seal  the  testimony, 
which  you  hold,  with  blood  ;  but  "  be  you  faithful 
unto  death,  and  the  King  will  give  you  a  crown  of 
life."  He  that  shall  die  there,  although  his  death 
will  be  unnatural,  and  his  pain,  perhaps,  great,  will 
yet  have  the  better  of  his  fellow,  not  only  because  he 
will  be  arrived  at  the  celestial  city  soonest,  but  be- 
cause he  will  escape  many  miseries  that  the  other 
will  meet  with  in  the  rest  of  his  journey.  But  when 
you  are  come  to  the  town,  and  shall  find  fulfilled 
what  I  have  here  related,  then  remember  your  friend, 
and  quit  yourselves  like  men  ;  and  commit  the  keep- 
ing of  your  souls  to  your  God  in  well-doing,  as  unto 
a  faithful  Creator." 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  when  they  were 
got  out  of  the  wilderness,  they  presently  saw  a  town 
before  them,  and  the  name  of  that  town  is  Vanity  ; 
and  at  the  town  there  is  a  fiiir  kept,  called  Vanity 
Fair.  It  is  kept  all  the  year  long :  it  beareth  the 
name  of  Vanity  Fair,  because  the  town  where  it  is 
kept  is  lighter  than  vanity,  and  also  because  all  that 
is  there  sold,  or  that  cometh  thither  is  vanity.  As 
is  the  saying  of  the  wise,  "All  that  cometh  is 
vanity."  ^ 

Til's  fair  is  no  new-erected  business,  but  a  thing 
1  Eccles.  i.  2,  14;  ii.  11,  17;  xi.  8:  Isa.  xl.  17. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 59 

of  ancient  standinij :  I  will  show  you  the  original 
of  it. 

Almost  five  thousand  years  ago,  there  were  pil- 
grims walking  to  the  celestial  city,  as  these  two 
honest  persons  are  ;  and  Beelzebub,  Apollyon,  and 
Legion,  with  their  companions,  perceiving  by  the 
path  that  the  pilgrims  made,  that  their  way  to  the 
city  lay  through  this  town  of  Vanity,  they  contrived 
here  to  set  up  a  fair  ;  a  fair  wherein  should  be  sold 
all  sorts  of  vanity  ;  and  that  it  should  last  all  the 
year  long.  Therefore,  at  this  fair  are  all  such  mer- 
chandise sold,  as  houses  lanils,  trades,  places,  hon- 
ours, preferments,  titles,  countries,  kingdoms,  lusts, 
pleasures ;  and  delights  of  all  sorts,  as  harlots, 
bawds,  wives,  husbands,  children,  masters,  servants, 
lives,  blood,  bodies,  souls,  silver,  gold,  pearls, 
precious  stones,  and  what  not. 

And,  moreover,  at  this  fair  there  are  at  all  times 
to  be  seen  jugglings,  cheats,  games,  plays,  fools, 
apes,  knaves,  and  rogues,  and  that  of  every 
kind. 

Here  are  to  be  seen  too,  and  that  for  nothing, 
thefts,  murders,  adulteries,  false  swearers,  and  that 
of  a  blood-red  colour. 

And,  as  in  other  fairs  of  less  moment,  there  are 
several  rows  and  streets  under  their  proper  names, 
whrre  such  and  such  wares  are  vended  ;    so  here, 


l6o  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

likewise,  yoii  have  the  proper  places,  rows,  streets 
(viz.,  countries  and  kingdoms),  where  the  waives  of 
this  fair  are  soonest  to  be  found.  Here  is  the  Britain- 
row,  the  French-row,  the  Itah'an-row,  the  Spanish- 
row,  the  German-row,  where  several  sorts  of  vanities 
are  to  be  sold.  But,  as  in  other  fairs,  some  one 
commodity  is  the  chief  of  all  the  fair,  so  the  ware 
of  Rome  and  her  merchandise  is  greatly  promoted 
in  this  fair:  only  our  English  nation,  with  some 
others,  have  taken  a  dislike  thereat. 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  celestial  city  lies 
just  through  this  town  where  this  lusty  fair  is  kept ; 
and  he  that  will  go  to  the  city,  and  yet  not  go  through 
this  town,  must  needs  go  out  of  the  world.  The 
Prince  of  princes  himself,  when  here,  went  through 
this  town  to  his  own  country,  and  that  upon  a  fair- 
day  too  :  yea,  and,  as  I  think,  it  was  Beelzebub,  the 
chief  lord  of  this  fair,  that  invited  him  to  buy  of  his 
vanities;  yea,  would  have  made  him  lord  of  the 
fair,  would  he  but  have  done  him  reverence  as  he 
went  through  the  town  :  yea,  because  he  was  such  a 
person  of  honour,  Beelzebub  had  him  from  street  to 
street,  and  showed  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  in  a  little  time,  that  he  might,  if  possible,  al- 
lure that  blessed  One  to  cheapen  and  buy  some  of 
his  vanities  :  but  he  had  no  mind  to  the  merchandise, 
and  therefore  left  the  town,  without  laving  out  so 


THE  PILGRIM' S  PROGRESS.  i6l 

much  as  one  farthing  upon  these  vanities.'  This 
fair,  therefore,  is  an  ancient  thing,  of  long  standing, 
and  a  very  great  fair. 

Now,  these  pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs  go 
through  this  fair.  Well,  so  they  did  ;  but  behold, 
even  as  they  entered  into  the  fair,  all  the  people  in 
the  fair  were  moved  ;  and  the  town  itself,  as  it  were, 
in  a  hubbub  about  them,  and  that  for  several  reasons  : 
for, 

First,  The  pilgrims  were  clothed  with  such  kind 
of  raiment,  as  was  diverse  from  the  raiment  of  any 
that  traded  in  that  fair.  The  people,  therefore,  of 
the  fair  made  a  great  gazing  upon  them  :  some  sa'.d 
they  were  fools  ;^  some,  they  were  bedlams;  and 
some,  they  were  outlandish  men. 

Secondly,  And  as  they  wondered  at  their  apparel, 
so  they  did  likewise  at  their  speech  ;  for  few  could 
understand  what  they  said.  They  naturally  spoke 
the  language  of  Canaan  ;  but  they  that  kept  the  fair 
were  the  men  of  this  world  :  so  that  from  one  end 
of  the  fair  to  the  other,  they  seemed  barbarians  each 
to  the  other. 

Thirdly,  But  that  which  did  not  a  little  amuse  the 
merchandisers  was,  that  these  pilgrims  set  very  light 
bv  all  their  wares  ;  thev  cared  not  so  much  as  to 
look  upon   them  :   and   if  they  called   upon  tlicm  to 

1  Matt.  iv.  S,  9  ;   Luke  iv.  5-7.  2  i  Cy,-.  iv.  9,  10. 

11 


1 62  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ouy,  they  would  put  their  fingers  in  their  ears,  and 
crv,  "  Turn  away  mine  eyes  from  beholding  vanity  ;" ' 
and  look  upwards,  signifying  that  their  trade  and 
traffic  was  in  heaven. 

One  chanced,  mockingly,  beholding  the  carriage 
of  the  men,  to  say  unto  them,  What  will  ye  buy? 
But  they,  looking  gravely  upon  him,  said,  We  buy 
the  truth.^  At  that  there  was  an  occasion  taken  to 
despise  the  men  the  more,  some  mocking,  some 
taunting,  some  speaking  repi'oachfuUy,  and  some 
calling  upon  others  to  smite  them.  At  last,  things 
came  to  a  hubbub  and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  insomuch 
that  all  order  was  confounded.  Now  was  word 
presently  brought  to  the  great  one  of  the  fair,  who 
quickly  came  down,  and  deputed  some  of  his  most 
trusty  friends  to  take  those  men  into  examination, 
about  whom  the  fair  was  almost  overturned.  So  the 
men  were  brought  to  examination  ;  and  they  that 
sat  upon  them  asked  them  whence  they  came, 
whither  they  went,  and  what  they  did  there  in  such 
an  unusual  garb.?  The  men  told  them,  that  they 
were  pilgrims  and  strangers  in  the  world,  and  that 
they  were  going  to  their  own  country,  which  was  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem;^  and  that  they  had  given  no 
occasion  to  the  men  of  the  town,  nor  yet  to  the  mer- 
chandisers, thus  to  abuse  them,  and  to  let  them  in 
iPs.  cxix.  37.         2  Prov.  xxiii.  23.  ^  Heb.  xi.  13-16. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  163 

their  journey,  except  it  was  for  that,  when  one  asked 
them  what  they  would  buy,  tliey  said  tliey  would 
buy  the  truth.  But  they  that  were  appointed  to  ex- 
amine them  did  not  believe  them  to  be  any  other 
than  bedlams  and  mad,  or  else  such  as  came  to  jout 
all  things  into  a  confusion  in  the  fair.  Therefore 
they  took  them,  and  beat  them,  and  besmeai'ed  them 
with  dirt,  and  then  put  them  into  the  cage,  that  they 
might  be  made  a  spectacle  to  all  the  men  of  the  fair. 
There,  therefore,  they  lay  for  some  time,  and  were 
made  the  objects  of  any  man's  sport,  or  malice,  or 
revenge  ;  the  great  one  of  the  fair  laughing  still  at 
all  that  befell  them.  But  the  men  being  patient,  and 
not  rendering  railing  for  railing,  but  contrariwise 
blessing,  and  giving  good  words  for  bad,  and  kind- 
ness for  injuries  done,  some  men  in  the  fair,  that 
were  more  observing  and  less  prejudiced  than  the 
rest,  began  to  check  and  blame  the  baser  sort  for 
their  continual  abuses  done  by  them  to  the  men. 
They,  therefore,  in  angry  manner,  let  fly  at  them 
again,  counting  them  as  bad  as  the  men  in  the  cage, 
and  telling  them  that  they  seemed  confederates,  and 
should  be  made  partakers  of  their  misfortunes. 
The  others  replied,  that,  for  aught  they  could  see, 
the  men  were  quiet  and  sober,  and  intended  nobod}' 
any  harm  :  and  that  there  were  many  that  traded  in 
the.r  fair  that  were  more  worthy  to  be  put  into  the 


164  THE  PILG.IIM-S  PROGRESS. 

cage,  3'ea,  and  pillory  too,  than  were  the  men  that 
they  had  abused.  Thus,  after  divers  words  had 
passed  on  both  sides  (the  men  behaving  themselves 
all  the  while  ver_y  wisely  and  soberly  before  them), 
they  fell  to  some  blows  among  themselves,  and  did 
harm  one  to  another.  Then  were  these  two  poor 
men  brought  before  their  examiners  again,  and  were 
charged  as  being  guilty  of  the  late  hubbub  that  had 
been  in  the  fair.  So  they  beat  them  pitifully,  and 
hanged  irons  upon  them,  and  led  them  in  chains  up 
and  down  the  fair,  for  an  example  and  terror  to 
others,  lest  any  should  speak  in  their  behalf,  or  join 
themselves  unto  them.  But  Christian  and  Faithful 
behaved  themselves  yet  more  wisely,  and  received 
the  ignominy  and  shame  that  was  cast  upon  them 
with  so  much  meekness  and  patience,  that  it  w^on  to 
their  side  (though  but  few  in  comparison  of  the  rest) 
several  of  the  men  in  the  fair.  This  put  the  other 
party  yet  into  a  greater  rage,  insomuch  that  they 
concluded  the  death  of  these  two  men.  Wherefore 
they  threatened,  that  neither  cage  nor  irons  should 
serve  their  turn,  but  that  they  should  die  for  the 
abuse  they  had  done,  and  for  deluding  the  men  of 
the  fair. 

Then  were  they  remanded  to  the  cage  again,  until 
further  order  should  be  taken  with  them.  So  they 
put  them  in,  and  irade  their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks. 


THE  PILGRIM' S  PROGRESS.  65 

Here,  also,  they  called  again  to  mind  what  tl.ey 
had  heard  from  their  faithful  friend  Evangelist,  and 
were  the  more  confirmed  in  their  way  and  sufferings 
by  what  he  told  them  would  happen  to  them.  They 
also  now  comforted  each  other,  that  whose  lot  it  was 
to  suffer,  even  he  should  have  the  best  of  it ;  there- 
fore each  man  secretly  wished  that  he  might  have 
that  preferment:  but  committing  themselves  to  the 
all-wise  disposal  of  Ilim  that  rulctli  all  things,  with 
much  content  they  abode  in  the  condition  in  which 
they  were,  until  they  should  be  otherwise  disposed 
of. 

Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they 
brought  them  fortli  to  their  trial,  in  order  to  their 
condemnation.  When  the  time  w^as  come,  they 
were  brought  before  their  enemies  and  arraigned. 
The  judge's  name  was  Lord  Hate-good  :  their  in- 
dictment was  one  and  the  same  in  substance,  though 
somewhat  varying  in  form  ;  the  contents  whereof 
were  these  : 

"  That  they  were  enemies  to,  and  disturbers  of, 
the  trade  :  that  they  had  made  commotions  and  di- 
visions in  the  town,  and  had  won  a  party  to  their 
own  most  dangerous  opinions,  in  contempt  of  the 
law  of  their  pi'ince." 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer,  that  he  had  only 
set  himself  asrainst  th.at  which   had   set  itself  asrainst 


1 66  THE  PILGRIM'S  PR  JGRESS. 

Him  that  is  higher  than  the  highest.  And,  said  he, 
as  for  disturbance,  I  make  none,  being  myself  a 
man  of  peace :  the  parties  that  were  won  to  us, 
were  won  by  beholding  our  truth  and  innocence, 
and  they  are  only  turned  from  the  worse  to  the  bet- 
ter. And  as  to  the  king  you  talk  of,  since  he  is 
Beelzebub,  the  enemy  of  our  Lord,  I  defy  him  and 
all  his  angels. 

Then  proclamation  was  made,  that  they  that  had 
aught  to  say  for  their  lord  the  king,  against  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar,  should  forthwith  appear,  and 
give  in  their  evidence.  So  there  came  in  three  wit- 
nesses, to  wit.  Envy,  Superstition,  and  Pickthank. 
They  were  then  asked,  if  they  knew  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar,  and  what  they  had  to  say  for  their  lord  the 
king  against  him. 

Then  stood  forth  Envy,  and  said  to  this  effect : 
My  lord,  I  have  known  this  man  a  long  time,  and 
will  attest  upon  my  oath  before  this  honourable 
bench,  that  he  is — 

Judge.   Hold,  give  him  his  oath. 

So  they  sware  him.  Then  he  said,  My  lord,  this 
nan,  notwithstanding  his  plausible  name,  is  one  of 
the  vilest  men  in  our  country ;  he  neither  regardeth 
prince  nor  people,  law  nor  custom,  but  doth  all  that 
he  can  to  possess  all  men  with  certain  of  his  disloyal 
notions,  which  he  in    the  general  calls  "  principles 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  167 

of  faith  and  holiness."  And,  in  particular,  I  heard 
him  once  myself  affirm,  that  Christianity  and  tlie 
customs  of  our  town  of  Vanity  were  diametrically 
opposite,  and  could  not  be  reconciled.  By  which 
saying,  my  lord,  he  doth  at  once  not  only  condemn 
all  our  laudable  doings,  but  us  in  the  doing  of  them. 

Then  did  the  judge  say  to  him,  Hast  thou  any 
more  to  say  ? 

Envy.  My  lord,  I  could  say  much  more,  only  I 
would  not  be  tedious  to  the  court.  Yet,  if  need  be, 
when  the  other  gentlemen  have  given  in  their  evi- 
dence, rather  than  anything  shall  be  wanting  that 
will  despatch  him,  I  will  enlarge  my  testimony 
against  him.     So  he  was  bid  stand  by. 

Then  they  called  Superstition,  and  bid  him  look 
upon  the  prisoner  ;  they  also  asked  him,  what  he 
could  say  for  their  lord  the  king  against  him .''  Then 
they  sware  him  ;  so  he  began : 

Super.  My  lord,  I  have  no  great  acquaintance 
with  this  man,  nor  do  I  desire  to  have  further  know- 
ledge of  him  ;  however,  this  I  know,  that  he  is  a 
very  pestilent  fellow,  from  some  discourse  that  the 
other  day  I  had  with  him  in  this  town  ;  for  then, 
talking  with  him,  I  heard  him  say  that  our  religion 
was  naught,  and  such  by  which  a  man  could  by  no 
means  please  God.  Which  saying  of  his,  my  lord, 
your    lordbhip    very   well    knows    what    necessarily 


1 68  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

thence  will  follow,  to  wit,  that  we  still  do  -w^or- 
ship  in  vain,  are  yet  in  our  sins,  and  finally 
shall  be  damned :  and  this  is  that  which  I  have 
to  say. 

Then  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what  he 
knew  in  behalf  of  their  lord  the  king,  against  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar. 

Pick.  My  lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  this  fellow 
I  have  known  of  a  long  time,  and  have  heard  him 
speak  things  that  ought  not  to  be  spoken  ;  for  he 
hath  railed  on  our  noble  prince  Beelzebub,  and  hath 
spoken  contemptibly  of  his  honourable  friends,  whose 
names  are  the  Lord  Old  Man,  the  Lord  Carnal  De- 
light, the  Lord  Luxurious,  the  Lord  Desire  of  Vain 
Glory,  my  old  Lord  Lechery,  Sir  Having  Greedy, 
with  all  the  rest  of  our  nobility  :  and  he  hath  said, 
moreover,  that  if  all  men  were  of  his  mind,  if  possi- 
ble, there  is  not  one  of  these  noblemen  should  have 
any  longer  a  being  in  this  town.  Besides,  he  hath 
not  been  afraid  to  rail  on  you,  my  lord,  who  are  now 
appointed  to  be  his  judge,  calling  you  an  ungodly 
villain,  with  many  other  such-like  vilifying  terms, 
with  which  he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the  gentry 
of  our  town. 

When  this  Pickthank  had  told  his  tale,  the  judge 
directed  his  speech  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  raying, 
Thou  runagate,  heretic,  and  traitor,  hast  thou  heard 


THE  PILGRIM'S  mOG.?BSS.  169 

what  these  honest  gentlemen  have  witnessed  agahist 
thee  ? 

Faith.  May  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own 
defence  ? 

Judge.  Sirrah,  sirrah,  thou  deservcst  to  live  no 
longer,  but  to  be  slain  immediately  upon  the  place  ; 
yet,  that  all  men  may  see  our  gentleness  towards 
thee,  let  us  hear  what  thou,  vile  runagate,  hast  to 
say. 

Faith.  I  say  then,  in  answer  to  what  jSIr.  Envy 
hath  spoken,  I  never  said  aught  but  this,  that  what 
rule,  or  laws,  or  custom,  or  people,  were  flat  against 
the  word  of  God,  are  diametrically  opposite  to 
Christianity.  If  I  have  said  amiss  in  this,  convince 
me  of  my  eiTor,  and  I  am  ready  here  before  you  to 
make  my  recantation. 

As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition,  vnd  his 
charge  against  me,  I  said  only  this,  that  in  the  wor- 
ship of  God  there  is  required  a  divine  faith  :  but 
there  can  be  no  divine  faith  without  a  divine  revela- 
tion of  the  will  of  God.  Therefore,  whatever  is 
thru^5t  into  the  worship  of  God  that  is  not  agreeable 
to  divine  revelation,  cannot  be  done  but  by  a  human 
faith,  which  faith  will  not  be  profitable  to  eternal 
life. 

As  to  what  Mr.  Pickthank  hath  said,  I  say  (avoid- 
ing terms,  as  that   I  am    said   to   rail,  and   the  like), 


170  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  the  prince  of  this  town,  with  all  the  rabblemeui 
his  attendants,  by  this  gentleman  namet'l,  are  more 
fit  for  being  in  hell  than  in  this  town  and  country  ; 
and  so  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me. 

Then  the  judge  called  to  the  jury  (who  all  this 
while  stood  by  to  hear  and  observe),  Gentlemen  of 
the  jury,  you  see  this  man  about  whom  so  great  an 
uproar  hath  been  made  in  this  town  ;  you  have  also 
heard  what  these  worthy  gentlemen  have  witnessed 
against  him  ;  also  you  have  heard  his  reply  and  con- 
fession :  it  lieth  now  in  your  breast  to  hang  him,  or 
save  his  life  ;  but  yet  I  think  meet  to  instruct  you  in 
our  law. 

There  was  an  att  made  in  the  days  of  Pharaoh 
fhe  great,  servant  to  our  prince,  that,  lest  those  of  a 
contrary  religion  should  multiply  and  grow  too  strong 
for  him,  their  males  should  be  thrown  into  the  river.' 
There  was  also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Nebu- 
chadnezzar the  great,  another  of  his  servants,  that 
whoever  would  not  fall  down  and  worship  his  golden 
image,  should  be  thrown  into  a  fiery  furnace,^  There 
was  also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  that 
whoso  for  some  time  called  upon  any  god  but  him, 
should  be  cast  into  the  lions'  den.^  Now,  the  sub- 
stance of  these  laws  this  rebel  hath  broken,  n  »tonly  in 
thought  (which  is  not  to  be  borne),  but  alsc  in  word 
Ex.  i.  2  Dan.  iii.  ^  Dan.  vi. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  171 

and  deed  ;  which  must  therefore  needs  be  in- 
tolerable. 

For  that  of  Pharaoh,  his  law  was  made  upon  a 
supposition,  to  prevent  mischief,  no  crime  being  yet 
apparent ;  but  here  is  a  crime  apparent.  For  the 
second  and  third,  you  see  he  disputeth  against  our 
religion  ;  and  for  the  treason  that  he  hath  already 
confessed  he  deserveth  to  die  the  death. 

Then  went  the  jury  out,  whose  names  were  Air. 
Blindman,  Mr.  No-good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love- 
lust,  Mr.  Live-loose,  Mr.  Heady,  Mr.  High-mind, 
Mr,  Enmity,  Mr.  Liar,  Mr.  Cruelty,  Mr.  Hate-light, 
and  Mr.  Implacable  ;  who  every  one  gave  in  his 
private  verdict  against  him  among  themselves,  and 
afterwards  unanimously  concluded  to  bring  him  in 
guilty  before  the  judge.  And  first  among  them- 
selves, Mr.  Blindman,  the  foreman,  said,  I  see 
clearly  that  this  man  is  a  heretic,  Then  said  Mr. 
No-good,  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  earth. 
Ay,  said  Mr.  Malice,  for  I  hate  the  very  looks  of 
him.  Then  said  Mr.  Love-lust,  I  could  never  en- 
dure him.  Nor  I,  said  Mr.  Live-loose,  for  he  would 
be  always  condemning  my  way.  Hang  him,  hang 
him,  said  Mr.  Heady.  A  sorry  scrub,  said  Mr. 
High-mind.  My  heart  riscth  against  him,  said  Mr. 
Enmity.  He  is  a  rogue,  said  Mr.  Liar.  Hanging 
is  too  good  for  him,  said   Mr.  Crueltv.      Let  us  des- 


172  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

patch  him  out  of  the  way,  said  Mr.  Hate-light. 
Then  said  Mr.  Implacable,  Might  I  have  all  the 
world  given  me,  I  could  not  be  reconciled  to  him  ; 
therefore  let  us  forthwith  bring  him  in  guilty  of 
death.  And  so  they  did  ;  therefore  he  was  presently 
condemned  to  be  had  from  the  place  where  he  was, 
to  the  place  from  whence  he  came,  and  there  to  be 
put  to  the  most  cruel  death  that  could  be  invented. 

They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with  him 
according  to  their  law  ;  and  first  they  scourged  him, 
then  they  buffeted  him,  then  they  lanced  his  flesh 
with  knives ;  after  that  they  stoned  him  with  stones, 
then  pricked  him  with  their  swords  ;  and  last  of  all, 
they  burned  him  to  ashes  at  the  stake.  Thus  came 
Faithful  to  his  end. 

Now  I  saw  that  there  stood  behind  the  multitude 
a  chariot  and  a  couple  of  horses  waiting  for  Faithful, 
wlio,  so  soon  as  his  adversaries  had  despatched  him, 
was  taken  up  into  it,  and  straightway  was  carried  up 
through  the  clouds,  with  sound  of  trumpet,  the 
nearest  way  to  the  celestial  gate.  But  as  for  Chris- 
tian, he  had  some  respite,  and  was  remanded  back 
to  prison  ;  so  he  there  remained  for  a  space.  But 
He  that  overrules  all  things,  having  the  power  of 
their  rage  in  his  own  hand,  so  wrought  it  about,  that 
Christian  for  that  time  escaped  them,  and  went  his 
way.     And  as  he  went  he  sang,  saying — 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 73 

Well,  Faithful,  thou  hast  faithfully  professed, 
Unto  thy  Lord,  with  whom  thou  shalt  be  blest ; 
When  faithless  ones,  with  all  their  vain  delights 
Are  crying  out  under  their  hellish  plights  : 
Sing,  Faithful,  sing,  and  let  thy  name  survive  : 
For  though  they  killed  thee,  thou  art  yet  alive. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  went  not 
forth  alone ;  for  there  was  one  whose  name  was 
Hopeful  (being  so  made  by  the  beholding  of  Chris- 
tian and  Faithful  in  their  words  and  behaviour  in 
their  sufferings  at  the  fair),  who  joined  himself  unto 
him,  and,  entering  into  a  brotherly  covenant,  told 
him  that  lie  would  be  his  companion.  Thus  one 
died  to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth,  and  another 
rises  out  of  his  ashes  to  be  a  companion  with  Chris- 
tian in  his  pilgrimage.  This  Hopeful  also  told 
Christian,  that  there  were  many  more  of  the  men  in 
the  fair  that  would  take  their  time  and  follow  after. 

So  I  saw,  that  quickly  after  they  were  got  out  of 
the  fair,  they  overtook  one  that  was  going  before 
them,  whose  name  was  By-ends:  so  they  said  to 
him.  What  countryman,  sir?  and  how  far  go  you 
this  way?  He  told  them  that  he  came  from  the  town 
of  Fair-speech,  and  he  was  going  to  the  celestial 
city  ;  but  told  them  not  his  name. 

From  Fair-speech  !  said  Christian  :  is  there  any 
good  that  lives  there  ?^ 

'  Prov.  xxvi,  25. 


1 74  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Yes,  said  By-ends,  I  hope. 

Pray,  sir,  what  may  I  call  you  ?  said  Christian. 

By.  I  am  a  stranger  to  yon,  and  yon  to  me  :  if  you 
be  going  this  way,  I  shall  be  glad  of  your  company  ; 
if  not,  I  must  be  content; 

This  town  of  Fair-speech,  said  Christian,  I  have 
heard  of;  and,  as  I  remember,  they  say  it  is  a  wealthy 
place. 

Bv.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is ;  and  I  have 
very  many  rich  kindred  there. 

Chr.  Pray,  who  are  your  kindred  there,  if  a  man 
may  be  so  bold  ? 

By.  Almost  the  whole  town :  and,  in  particular, 
my  Lord  Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time-server,  my 
Lord  Fair-speech,  from  whose  ancestors  that  town 
first  took  its  name :  also  Mr.  Smooth-man,  Mr. 
Facing-both-ways,  Mr.  Any-thing ;  and  the  parson 
of  our  parish,  Mr.  Two-tongues,  was  my  mother's 
own  brother  by  father's  side :  and,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  am  become  a  gentleman  of  good  quality  ; 
yet  my  great-grandfather  was  but  a  waterman,  look- 
ing one  way  and  rowing  another,  and  I  got  most  of 
my  estate  by  the  same  occupation. 

Chr.  Are  you  a  married  man.? 

By.  Yes,  and  my  wife  is  a  very  virtuous  woman, 
the  daughter  of  a  virtuous  woman  ;  she  was  my 
Lady  Feigning's  daughter,  therefore  slie  came  of  a   . 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  I'/S 

very  honourable  family,  and  is  arrived  to  buch  a 
pitch  ol'  breeding,  that  she  knows  how  to  carry  it  to 
all,  even  to  prince  and  peasant.  It  is  true,  we  some- 
wliat  ditler  in  religion  from  those  of  the  strictest 
sort,  yet  but  in  two  small  points  :  First,  we  never 
strive  against  wind  and  tide.  Secondly,  we  are 
always  most  zealous  when  Religion  goes  in  his  sil- 
ver slippers :  we  love  much  to  walk  with  him  in  the 
streets,  if  the  sun  shines,  and  the  people  applaud  Iiim. 

Then  Christian  stepped  a  little  aside  to  his  fellow 
Hopeful,  saying,  It  runs  in  my  mind  that  this  is  one 
By-ends,  of  Fair-speech  ;  and  if  it  be  he,  we  have  as 
very  a  knave  in  our  company  as  dwelleth  in  all  these 
parts.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Ask  him  ;  mcthinks  he 
should  not  be  ashamed  of  his  name.  So  Christian 
came  up  with  him  again,  and  said.  Sir,  you  talk  as 
if  you  knew  something  more  than  all  the  world  doth  ; 
and,  if  I  take  not  my  mark  amiss,  I  deem  I  have 
half  a  guess  of  you  :  is  not  your  name  Mr.  By-ends, 
of  Fair-speech. 

By.  This  is  not  my  name,  but  indeed  it  is  a  nick- 
name that  is  given  me  by  some  that  cannot  abide 
me,  and  I  must  be  content  to  beai  it  as  a  re- 
proach, as  other  good  men  have  borne  theirs  before 
me. 

Chr.  But  did  you  never  give  an  occasion  to  men 
to  call  yi>u  by  this  namcf* 


176  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

By.  Never,  never  !  The  worst  that  ever  I  did  to 
give  them  an  occasion  to  give  me  this  name  was, 
that  I  had  always  the  kick  to  jump  in  my  judgment 
with  the  present  way  of  the  times,  whatever  it  was, 
and  my  chance  was  to  get  thereby  :  but  if  things  are 
thus  cast  upon  me,  let  me  count  them  a  blessing; 
but  let  not  the  malicious  load  me,  therefore,  with 
reproach. 

Chr.  I  thought,  indeed,  that  you  were  the  man 
that  I  heard  of;  and,  to  tell  you  what  I  think,  I  fear 
this  name  belongs  to  you  more  properly  than  you 
are  willing  we  should  think  it  doth. 

By.  Well,  if  you  will  thus  imagine,  I  cannot  help 
it ;  you  shall  find  me  a  fair  company-keeper,  if  you 
will  still  admit  me  your  associate. 

Chr.  If  you  will  go  with  us,  you  must  go  against 
wind  and  tide  ;  the  which,  I  perceive,  is  against 
your  opinion.  You  must  also  own  Religion  in  his 
rags,  as  well  as  in  his  silver  slippers ;  and  stand  by 
him  too,  when  bound  in  irons,  as  well  as  when  he 
walketh  the  streets  with  applause. 

By.  You  must  not  impose,  nor  loi'd  it  over  m}^ 
faith  ;  leave  me  to  my  liberty,  and  let  me  go  with  you. 

Chr.  Not  a  step  farther,  unless  you  will  do,  in 
what  I  propound,  as  we. 

Then  said  By-ends,  I  shall  never  desert  my  old 
oi'Inciples,   since   they  are  harmless  and   profitable. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  177 

If  I  may  not  go  with  you,  I  must  do  as  I  did  before 
you  overtook  me,  even  go  by  myself,  until  some 
overtake  me  that  will  be  glad  of  my  company. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  and 
Hopeful  forsook  him,  and  kept  their  distance  before 
him  ;  but  one  of  them,  looking  back,  saw  three  men 
following  Mr.  By-ends  ;  and  behold,  as  they  came 
up  with  him,  he  made  them  a  very  low  congee  ;  and 
they  also  gave  him  a  compliment.  The  men's 
names  were,  Mr.  Hold-the-world,  Mr.  Money-love, 
and  Mr.  Save-all,  men  that  Mr.  By-ends  had  formerly 
been  acquainted  with,  for  in  their  minority  they 
were  schoolfellows,  and  were  taught  by  one  ]Mr. 
Gripe-man,  a  schoolmaster  in  Love-gain,  which  is  a 
market-town  in  the  county  of  Coveting,  in  the  north. 
This  schoolmaster  taught  them  the  art  of  getting, 
either  by  violence,  cozenage,  flattery,  lying,  or  by 
putting  on  a  guise  of  religion  ;  and  these  four  gentle- 
men had  attained  much  of  the  art  of  their  master,  so 
that  they  could  each  of  them  have  kept  such  a  school 
themselves. 

Well,  when  they  had,  as  I  said,  thus  saluted  each 
other,  Mr.  Money-love  said  to  Mr.  By-ends,  Who  are 
they  upon  the  road  before  us.''  for  Christian  and 
Hopeful  were  yet  within  view. 

Bv.  They  are  a  couple  of  far  countrymen,  that, 
after  their  mode,  are  going  on  pilgrimage. 
]2 


XjS  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Money.  Alas  !  why  did  they  not  stay,  that  we 
might  have  had  their  good  company?  for  they,  and 
we,  and  you,  sir,  I  hope  are  all  going  on  pilgrimage. 

By.  We  are  so  indeed  ;  but  the  men  before  us  are 
so  rigid,  and  love  so  much  their  own  notions,  and  do 
also  so  lightly  esteem  the  opinions  of  others,  that, 
let  a  man  be  never  so  godly,  yet  if  he  jumps  not 
with  them  in  all  things,  they  thrust  him  quite  out  of 
their  company. 

Save.  That's  bad  :  but  we  read  of  some  that  are 
"  righteous  over-much  ;"  and  such  men's  rigidness 
prevails  with  them  to  judge  and  condemn  all  but 
themselves.  But  I  pray,  what,  and  how  many, 
were  the  things  wherein  you  differed? 

By.  Why,  they,  after  their  headstrong  manner, 
conclude,  that  it  is  duty  to  rush  on  their  journey  all 
weathers ;  and  I  am  for  waiting  for  wind  and  tide. 
They  are  for  hazarding  all  for  God  at  a  clap,  and  I 
am  for  taking  all  advantages  to  secure  my  life  and 
estate.  They  are  for  holding  their  notions,  though 
all  other  men  be  against  them  ;  but  I  am  for  religion 
in  what,  and  so  far  as,  the  times  and  my  safety  will 
bear  it.  They  are  for  Religion  when  in  rags  and 
contempt;  but  I  am  for  him  when  he  walks  in  his 
silver  slippers,  in  the  sunshine,  and  with  applause. 

HoLD-THE-woRLD.  Ay,  and  hold  you  there  still, 
good  Mr.  By-ends:  for,  for  my  part,  I  ca  i  count  him 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  179 

but  a  fool,  that,  having  the  liberty  to  keep  what  he 
has,  shall  be  so  unwise  as  to  lose  it.  Let  us  be  wise 
as  serpents;  it  is  best  to  make  hay  while  the  sun 
shines  :  you  see  how  the  bee  lieth  still  in  winter,  and 
bestirs  her  only  when  she  can  have  profit  with 
pleasure.  God  sends  sometimes  rain,  and  some- 
times sunshine  :  if  they  be  such  fools  to  go  through 
the  first,  yet  let  us  be  content  to  take  fair  weather 
along  with  us.  For  my  part,  I  like  that  religion 
best  that  will  stand  with  the  security  of  God's  good 
blessings  unto  us  ;  for  who  can  imagine,  that  is  ruled 
by  his  reason,  since  God  has  bestowed  upon  us  the 
good  things  of  this  life,  but  that  he  would  have  us 
keep  them  for  his  sake.''  Abraham  and  Solomon 
grew  rich  in  religion  ;  and  Job  says,  that  a  good  man 
"  shall  lay  up  gold  as  dust."  But  he  must  not  be 
such  as  the  inen  before  us,  if  they  be  as  you  have 
described  them. 

Save.  I  think  that  we  are  all  agreed  in  this 
matter,  and  therefore  there  needs  no  more  words 
about  it. 

Money.  No,  there  needs  no  more  words  about 
this  matter  indeed;  for  he  that  believes  neither 
Scripture  nor  reason  (and  you  see  we  have  both  on 
our  side),  neither  knows  his  own  liberty,  nor  seeks 
his  own  safety. 

By.  My  brethren,  we  are,  as  you  see,  going  all  on 


I  So  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

pilgrimage  ;  and,  for  our  better  diversion  from  things 
that  are  bad,  give  me  leave  to  propound  unto  you 
this  question  : 

Suppose  a  man,  a  minister,  or  a  tradesman,  etc., 
should  have  an  advantage  lie  before  him  to  get  the 
good  blessings  of  this  life,  yet  so  as  that  he  can  by 
no  means  come  by  them,  except,  in  appearance  at 
least,  he  becomes  extraordinary  zealous  in  some 
points  of  religion  that  he  meddled  not  with  before — 
may  he  not  use  this  means  to  attain  his  end,  and  yet 
be  a  right  honest  man? 

Money.  I  see  the  bottom  of  your  question  ;  and, 
with  these  gentlemen's  good  leave,  I  will  endeavour 
to  shape  you  an  answer.  And,  first,  to  speak  to 
your  question,  as  it  concerneth  a  minister  himself. 
Suppose  a  minister,  a  worthy  man,  possessed  but  of 
a  very  small  benefice,  and  has  in  his  eye  a  greater, 
more  fat  and  plump  by  far :  he  has  also  now  an 
opportunity  of  getting  it,  yet  so  as  by  being  more 
studious,  by  preaching  more  frequently  and  zeal- 
ously, and  because  the  temper  of  the  people  requires 
it,  by  altering  of  some  of  his  principles  :  for  my  part, 
I  see  no  reason  why  a  man  may  not  do  this,  provided 
he  has  a  call,  ay,  and  more  a  great  deal  besides,  and 
yet  be  an  honest  man.     For  why.'' 

I.  His  desire  of  a  greater  benefice  is  lawful ;  this 
cannot  be  contradicted,  since  it  is  set  before  him  by 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  iSl 

Providence  :  so  then  he  ni^y  get  it  if  he  can,  making 
no  question  for  conscience'  sake. 

2.  Besides,  his  desire  after  that  benefice  makes 
him  more  studious,  a  more  zealous  preacher,  etc., 
and  so  makes  him  a  better  man,  yea,  makes  him 
better  improve  his  parts  ;  which  is  according  to  the 
mind  of  God. 

3.  Now,  as  for  his  complying  with  the  temper 
of  his  people,  by  deserting,  to  serve  them,  some  of 
his  principles,  this  argueth,  (i.)  that  he  is  of  a  self- 
denying  temper;  (3.)  of  a  sweet  and  winning  de- 
portment; and,  (3.)  so  more  fit  for  the  ministerial 
function. 

4.  I  conclude,  then,  that  a  minister  that  changes  a 
small  for  a  great,  should  not,  for  so  doing,  be  judged 
as  covetous ;  but  leather,  since  he  is  improved  in  his 
parts  and  industry  thereby,  be  counted  as  one  that 
pui'sues  his  call,  and  the  opportunity  put  into  his 
hand  to  do  good. 

And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  question,  which 
concerns  the  tradesman  you  mentioned :  suppose 
such  an  one  to  have  but  a  poor  employ  in  the 
world,  but,  by  becoming  religious,  he  may  mend  his 
market,  perhaps  get  a  rich  wife,  or  more  and  far 
better  customers  to  his  shop.  For  my  part,  I  see 
no  reason  but  t'lis  may  be  lawfully  done.  For 
why.? 


1 82  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

1.  To  become  religious  is  a  virtue,  by  wh;  t  means 
soever  a  man  becomes  so. 

2.  Nor  is  it  unlawful  to  get  a  rich  w^ife,  or  more 
custom  to  my  shop. 

3.  Besides,  the  man  that  gets  these  by  becoming 
religious  gets  that  which  is  good,  of  them  that  are 
good,  by  becoming  good  himself;  so  then  here  is  a 
good  wife,  and  good  customers,  and  good  gain,  and 
all  these  by  becoming  religious,  which  is  good : 
therefore,  to  become  religious  to  get  all  these,  is  a 
good  and  profitable  design. 

This  answer,  thus  made  by  Mr.  Money-love  to 
Mr.  By-ends'  question,  was  highly  applauded  by 
them  all :  wherefore  they  concluded,  upon  the  whole, 
that  it  was  most  wholesome  and  advantageous.  And 
because,  as  they  thought,  no  man  was  able  to  con- 
tradict it,  and  because  Christian  and  Hopeful  were 
yet  within  call,  they  jointly  agreed  to  assault  them 
with  the  question  as  soon  as  they  overtook  them  ; 
and  the  rather,  because  they  had  opposed  Mr.  By- 
ends  before.  So  they  called  after  them,  and  they 
stopped  and  stood  still  till  they  came  up  to  them  : 
but  they  concluded,  as  they  went,  that  not  Mr.  By- 
ends,  but  old  Mr.  Hold-the-world,  should  propound 
the  question  to  them  ;  because,  as  they  supposed, 
their  answer  to  him  would  be  without  the  remainder 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  1 83 

of  that  heat  that  was  kindled  betwixt  Mr.  By-ends 
and  them,  at  their  parting  a  little  before. 

So  they  came  up  to  each  other,  and  after  a  short 
salutation,  ]SIr.  Hold-the-world  propounded  the 
question  to  Christian  and  his  fellow,  and  bid  them 
to  answer  it,  if  they  could. 

Then  said  Christian,  Even  a  babe  in  religion  may 
answer  ten  thousand  such  questions.  For  if  it  be 
unlawful  to  follow  Christ  for  loaves,  as  it  is,  John 
vi.  26,  how  much  more  abominable  is  it  to  make  of 
him  and  religion  a  stalking-horse  to  get  and  enjoy 
the  world  !  Nor  do  we  find  any  other  than  heathens, 
hypocrites,  devils,  and  witches,  that  are  of  this 
opinion. 

1.  Heathens:  for  when  Ilamor  and  Shechem  had 
a  mind  to  the  daughter  and  cattle  of  Jacob,  and  saw 
that  there  was  no  way  for  them  to  come  at  them,  but 
by  being  circumcised  ;  they  say  to  their  companions, 
"  If  every  male  of  us  be  circumcised,  as  they  are 
circumcised,  shall  not  their  cattle  and  their  sub- 
stance, and  every  beast  of  theirs,  be  ours.'"'  Their 
daughters  and  their  cattle  were  that  which  they 
sought  to  obtain,  and  their  religion  the  stalking-horse 
they  made  use  of  to  come  at  them.  Read  the  whole 
story.  Genesis  xxxiv.  20-24. 

2.  The  hypocritical  Pharisees  were  also  of  this 
religion  •  long  prayers  were  their  pretence  ;  but  to 


H84  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

get  widows'  houses   was   their   intent,   and    greater 
damnation  was  from  God  their  judgment.^ 

3.  Judas  the  devil  was  also  of  this  religion  :  he 
was  religious  for  the  bag,  that  he  might  be  possessed 
of  what  was  put  therein ;  but  he  was  lost,  cast 
away,  and  the  very  son  of  perdition. 

4.  Simon  the  wizard  was  of  this  religion  too  ;  for 
he  would  have  had  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he  might 
have  got  money  therewith  ;  and  his  sentence  from 
Peter's  mouth  was  according.^ 

5.  Neither  will  it  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  that 
man  that  takes  up  religion  for  the  world,  will  throw 
away  religion  for  the  world  ;  for  so  surely  as  Judas 
designed  the  world  in  becoming  religious,  so  surely 
did  he  also  sell  religion  and  his  Master  for  the  same. 
To  answer  the  question  therefore  affirmatively,  as  I 
perceive  you  have  done,  and  to  accept  of,  as  authen- 
tic, such  answer,  is  both  heathenish,  hypocritical, 
au:^  devilish  ;  and  your  reward  will  be  according  to 
your  works. 

Then  they  stood  staring  one  upon  another,  but 
had  not  wherewith  to  answer  Christian.  Hopeful 
also  approved  of  the  soundness  of  Christian's  an- 
swer ;  so  there  was  a  great  silence  among  them. 
Mr.  By-ends  and  his  company  also  staggered  and 
kept  behind,  that  Christian  and  Hopeful  might  citgo 
1  Luke  XX.  46,  47.  5  Acts  viii.  iS-23. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  185 

them.  Then  said  Christian  to  liis  fellow,  If  these 
men  cannot  stand  before  the  sentence  of  men,  what 
will  they  do  with  the  sentence  of  God  ?  And  if  they 
are  mute  when  dealt  with  by  vessels  of  clay,  what 
will  they  do  when  they  shall  be  rebuked  b}-  the 
flames  of  a  devouring  fire? 

Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  outwent  them  again, 
and  went  till  they  came  at  a  delicate  plain,  called 
Ease ;  where  they  went  with  much  content :  but 
that  plain  was  but  narrow,  so  they  were  quickly  got 
over  it.  Now,  at  the  furthe.-  side  of  that  plain  was 
a  little  hill  called  Lucre,  and  in  that  hill  a  silver 
mine,  which  some  of  them  that  had  formerly  gone 
that  way,  because  of  the  rarity  of  it,  had  turned 
aside  to  see  ;  but  going  too  near  the  brim  of  the  pit, 
the  ground  being  deceitful  under  them,  broke,  and 
they  were  slain  :  some  also  had  been  maimed  there, 
and  could  not  to  the'r  dying  day  be  their  own  men 
again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  a  little  off  the  road, 
over-against  the  silver  mine,  stood  Demas  (gentle- 
man-like) to  call  passengers  to  come  and  see  ;  who 
said  to  Christian  and  his  fellow.  Ho !  turn  aside 
hither,  and  I  will  show  you  a  thing. 

CiiR,  What  thing  is  so  deserving  as  to  turn  us  out 
of  the  way  to  see  it  ? 

Demas.   Here   is  a  silver  mine,  and  some  digging 


l86  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

in  it  fcr  treasure  ;  if  you  will  come,  with  a  little 
pains  you  may  richly  provide  for  yourselves. 

Then  said  Hopeful,  Let  us  go  see. 

Not  I,  said  Christian,  I  have  heard  of  this  place 
before  now,  and  how  many  have  there  been  slain  ; 
and,  besides,  that  treasure  is  a  snare  to  those  that 
seek  it,  for  it  hindereth  them  in  their  pilgrimage. 

Then  Christian  called  to  Demas,  saying.  Is  not 
the  place  dangerous?  hath  it  not  hindered  many  in 
their  pilgrimage  ? 

Demas.  Not  very  dangerous,  except  to  those  that 
are  careless.     But  withal  he  blushed  as  he  spake. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  Let  us  not  stir  a 
step,  but  still  keep  on  our  way. 

Hope.  I  will  warrant  you,  when  By-ends  comes 
up,  if  he  hath  the  same  invitation  as  we,  he  will 
turn  HI  thither  to  see. 

Chr.  No  doubt  thereof,  for  his  principles  lead 
him  that  way,  and  a  hundred  to  one  but  he  dies 
there. 

Then  Demas  called  again,  saying.  But  will  you 
not  come  over  and  see.^ 

Then  Christian  roundly  answered,  saying,  Demas, 

thou  art  an  enemy  to  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord  of 

this  way,  and  hast  been  already  condemned  for  thine 

own  turning  aside,  by  one  of  his  Majesty's  judges ;' 

-  2  Tim.  iv.  lo. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  187 

and  why  seekest  thou  to  bring  us  into  the  like  con- 
demnation? Besides,  if  we  at  all  turn  aside,  our 
Lord  the  King  will  certainly  hear  thereof,  and  will 
there  put  us  to  shame,  where  we  would  stand  with 
boldness  before  him. 

Demas  cried  again,  that  he  also  was  one  of  their 
fraternity  ;  and  that  if  they  would  tarry  a  little,  he 
also  himself  would  walk  with  them. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  is  thy  name.'  Is  it  not 
the  same  by  the  which  I  have  called  thee.-* 

Demas.  Yes,  my  name  is  Demas ;  I  am  the  son 
of  Abraham. 

Chr.  I  know  you  :  Gehazi  was  your  gi"eat-grand- 
father,  and  Judas  your  father,  and  you  have  trod  in 
their  steps.  It  is  but  a  devilish  prank  that  thou 
usest :  thy  father  was  hanged  for  a  traitor,  and  thou 
deservest  no  better  reward.^  Assure  thyself,  that 
when  we  come  to  the  King,  we  will  tell  him  of  this 
thy  behaviour.     Thus  they  went  their  way. 

By  this  time  By-ends  and  his  companions  were 
come  again  within  sight,  and  they  at  the  first  beck 
went  over  to  Demas.  Now,  whether  they  fell  into 
the  pit  by  looking  over  the  brink  thereof,  or  whether 
they  went  down  to  dig,  or  whether  they  were 
smothered  in  the  bottom  by  the  damps  that  com- 
monly arise,  of  these  things  I  am  not  certain  ;  but 
1  2  Kings  V.  20-27  J  l^^att.  xxvi.  14,  15  ;  xxvii.  3-5. 


lOO  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

this  I  obseived,  that  they  never  were  seen  again  in 
the  way.     Then  sang  Christian  : — 

By-ends  and  silver  Demas  both  agree  : 
One  calls,  the  other  runs,  that  he  may  be 
A  sharer  in  his  lucre  ;  so  these  do 
Take  up  in  this  world,  and  no  further  go. 

Now  I  saw,  that  just  on  the  other  side  of  this 
plain,  the  pilgrims  came  to  a  place  where  stood  an 
old  monument  hard  by  the  highway-side ;  at  the 
sight  of  which  they  were  both  concerned,  because 
of  the  strangeness  of  the  form  thereof,  for  it  seemed 
to  them  as  if  it  had  been  a  woman  transformed  into 
the  shape  of  a  pillar.  Here,  therefore,  they  stood 
looking  and  looking  upon  it,  but  could  not  for  a 
time  tell  what  they  should  make  thereof.  At  last 
Hopeful  espied,  written  above,  upon  the  head 
thei'eof,  a  writing  in  an  unusual  hand  ;  but  he,  being 
no  scholar,  called  to  Christian  (for  he  was  learned) 
to  see  if  he  could  pick  out  the  meaning  :  so  he  came, 
and  after  a  little  laying  of  the  letters  together,  he 
found  the  same  to  be  this,  "  Remember  Lot's  wife." 
So  he  read  it  to  his  fellow  ;  after  which  they  both 
concluded,  that  that  was  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which 
Lot's  wife  was  turned,  for  her  looking  back  with  a 
co^  eto'is  heart,  when  she  was  going  from  Sodom  for 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  1 89 

safety.*  Which  sudden  and  amazing  sight  gave  them 
occasion  for  this  discourse. 

Chr.  Ah,  my  brother!  this  is  a  seasonable  sight: 
it  came  opportunely  to  us  after  the  invitation  which 
Demas  gave  us  to  come  over  to  view  the  hill  Lucre  ; 
and  had  we  gone  over,  as  he  desired  us,  and  as  thou 
wast  inclined  to  do,  my  brother,  we  had,  for  aught  I 
know,  been  made  like  this  woman,  a  spectacle  for 
those  that  shall  come  after  to  behold. 

Hope.  I  am  sorry  that  I  was  so  foolish,  and  am 
made  to  wonder  that  I  am  not  now  as  Lot's  wife  ; 
for  wherein  was  the  dirtbrence  betwixt  her  sin  an(. 
mine?  She  only  looked  back,  and  I  had  a  desire  to 
go  see  :  let  grace  be  adored,  and  let  me  be  ashamed 
that  ever  such  a  thing  should  be  in  mine  heart. 

CiiR.  Let  us  take  notice  of  wiiat  we  see  here,  for 
our  help  for  time  to  come  :  this  woman  escaped 
one  judgment,  for  she  fell  not  by  the  destruction  of 
Sodom,  yet  she  was  destroyed  by  another,  as  we  see 
she  is  turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt. 

Hope.  True,  and  she  may  be  to  us  both  caution 
and  example  :  caution,  that  we  should  shun  her  sin  ; 
or  a  sign  of  what  judgment  will  overtake  such  as 
shall  not  be  prevented  by  this  caution  :  so  Korah, 
Dathan,  and  Abiram,  with  the  two  Inindred  and 
fifty  men  that  perished  in  their  sin,  did  also  become 
'  Gen.  xix.  26. 


190  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

a  sign  or  example  to  others  to  beware. '  But  above 
all,  I  muse  at  one  thing,  to  wit,  how  Demas  and  his 
fellows  can  stand  so  confidently  yonder  to  look  for 
that  treasure,  which  this  woman  but  for  looking  be- 
hind her  after  (for  we  read  not  that  she  stepped  one 
foot  out  of  the  wa}'),  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt ; 
especially  since  the  judgment  which  overtook  her, 
did  make  her  an  example  within  sight  of  where  they 
are  :  for  they  cannot  choose  but  see  her,  did  they  but 
lift  up  their  eyes. 

Chr.  It  is  a  thing  to  be  wondered  at,  and  it  ar- 
gueth  that  their  hearts  are  grown  desperate  in  the 
case  ;  and  I  cannot  tell  who  to  compare  them  to  so 
fitly,  as  to  them  that  pick  pockets  in  the  presence  of 
the  judge,  or  that  will  cut  purses  under  the  gallows 
It  is  said  of  the  men  of  Sodom,  that  "  they  were  sin- 
ners exceedingly,"  because  they  were  sinners  "be- 
fore the  Lord,"  that  is,  in  his  eyesight,  and  notwith- 
standing the  kindnesses  that  he  had  shown  them  ; 
for  the  land  of  Sodom  was  now  like  the  garden  of 
Eden  heretofore.^  This,  therefore,  provoked  him 
the  more  to  jealousy,  and  made  their  plague  as  hot 
as  the  fire  of  the  Lord  out  of  heaven  could  make  it. 
And  it  is  most  rationally  to  be  concluded,  that  such, 
even  such  as  these  are,  that  shall  sin  in  the  sight,  yea, 
and  that  too  in  despite  of  such  examples  that  are  set 
1  Num.  xxvi.  9,  lo.  ^  Gen.  xiii.  10,  13. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  I9I 

continually  before  them  to  caution  them  to  the  con- 
trary, must  be  partakers  of  severest  judgments. 

Hope.  Doubtless  thou  hast  said  the  truth  ;  but 
what  a  mercy  is  it,  that  neither  thou,  but  especially 
I,  am  not  made  myself  this  example  !  This  minis- 
tereth  occasion  to  us  to  thank  God,  to  fear  before 
him,  and  always  to  remember  Lot's  wife. 

I  saw  then  that  they  went  on  their  way  to  a 
pleasant  river,  which  David  the  king  called  "  the 
river  of  God  ;"  but  John,  "  the  river  of  the  water  of 
life."'  Now,  their  way  lay  just  upon  the  bank  of 
this  river :  here,  therefore,  Christian  and  his  com- 
panion walked  with  great  delight;  they  drank  also 
of  the  water  of  the  river,  which  was  pleasant  and 
enlivening  to  their  weary  spirits.  Besides,  on  the 
banks  of  this  river,  on  cither  side,  were  green  trees 
with  all  manner  of  fruit ;  and  the  leaves  they  ate  to 
prevent  surfeits,  and  other  diseases  that  are  incident 
to  those  that  heat  their  blood  by  travels.  On  either 
side  of  the  river  was  also  a  meadow,  curiously 
beautified  with  lilies  ;  and  it  was  green  all  the  year 
long.  In  this  meadow  they  lay  down  and  slept,  for 
here  they  might  lie  down  safely.^  When  they  awoke, 
they  gathered  again  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees,  and 
drank  again  of  the  water  of  the  river,  and   then   lay 

1  Ps.  xlvi.  4  ;  Ezek.  xlvii. ;  Rev.  xxii.  i. 
*  Ps.  xxiii. ;  Isa.  xiv.  30. 


192  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

down  again   to  sleep.     Thus  they  did  several  days 
and  nights.     Then  they  sang — 

Behold  ye  how  these  crystal  streams  do  glide, 

To  comfort  pilgrims  by  the  highway  side. 

The  meadows  green,  besides  their  fragrant  smell, 

Yield  dainties  for  them ;  and  he  who  can  tell 

What  pleasant  fruit,  yea,  leaves,  these  trees  do  yield. 

Will  soon  sell  all,  that  he  may  buy  this  field. 

So  when  they  were  disposed  to  go  on  (for  they 
were  not  as  yet  at  their  journey's  end),  they  ate,  and 
drank,  and  departed. 

Now,  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  had  not 
journeyed  far,  but  the  river  and  the  way  for  a  time 
parted,  at  which  they  were  not  a  little  sorry  ;  yet 
they  durst  not  go  out  of  the  way.  Now  the  way 
from  the  river  was  rough,  and  their  feet  tender  by 
reason  of  their  travels ;  so  the  souls  of  the  pilgrims 
were  much  discouraged  because  of  the  way.'  Where- 
fore, still  as  they  went  on,  they  wished  for  a  better 
way.  Now,  a  little  before  them,  there  was  on  the 
left  hand  of  the  road  a  meadow,  and  a  stile  to  go 
over  into  it,  and  that  meadow  is  called  By-path 
meadow.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow.  If  this 
meadow  lieth  along  by  our  way-side,  let  us  go  over 
into  it.  Then  he  went  to  the  stile  to  see,  and  behold 
a  path  lay  along  by  the  way  on  the  other  side  of  the 
1  Num.  xxi.  4. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  .PROGRESS.  1 93 

fence.  'Tis  according  to  my  wish,  said  Christian  ; 
here  is  the  easiest  going;  come,  good  Hopeful,  and 
let  us  go  over. 

Hope.  But  how  if  this  path  should  lead  us  out  of 
tlie  way .'' 

That  is  not  likely,  said  the  other.  Look,  doth  it 
not  go  along  by  the  way-side.''  So  Hopeful,  being 
persuaded  by  his  fellow,  went  after  him  over  tlic 
stile.  When  they  were  gone  over,  and  were  got 
into  the  path,  they  found  it  very  easy  for  their  feet ; 
and  withal,  they,  looking  before  them,  espied  a  man 
walking  as  they  did,  and  his  name  was  Vain-confi- 
dence :  so  they  called  after  him,  and  asked  hiin 
whither  that  way  led.  He  said.  To  the  celestial 
gate.  Look,  said  Christian,  did  not  I  tell  you  so.'' 
b\  this  you  may  see  we  are  right.  So  they  fol- 
lowed, and  he  went  before  them.  But  behold  the 
night  came  on,  and  it  grew  very  dark  ;  so  that  they 
that  went  behind  lost  the  sight  of  him  that  went 
before. 

He  therefore  that  went  before  (Vain-confidence  by 
name),  not  seeing  the  way  before  him,  fell  into  a 
deep  pit,^  which  was  on  purpose  there  made  by  the 
prince  of  those  grounds,  to  catch  vain-glorious  fools 
withal,  and  was  dashed  in  pieces  with  his  fall. 

Now,  Christian  and  his  fellow  heard  him  fall  ;  so 

'  Isa.  jx.  16. 
13 


194  ^^^  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  called  to  know  the  matter ;  but  there  was  none 
to  answer,  only  they  heard  a  groaning.  Then  said 
Hopeful,  Where  are  we  now?  Then  was  his  felloA^ 
silent,  as  mistrusting  that  he  had  led  him  out  of  the 
way :  and  now  it  began  to  rain,  and  thunder,  and 
lighten  in  a  most  dreadful  manner,  and  the  water 
rose  amain. 

Then  Hopeful  groaned  in  himself,  saying,  Oh, 
that  I  had  kept  on  my  way ! 

Cur.  Who  could  have  thought  that  this  path 
should  have  led  us  out  of  the  way.'' 

Hope.  I  was  afraid  on't  at  the  very  first,  and 
therefore  gave  you  that  gentle  caution.  I  would 
have  spoke  plainer,  but  that  you  are  older  than  I. 

Chr.  Good  brother,  be  not  offended  ;  I  am  sorry 
I  have  brought  thee  out  of  the  way,  and  that  I  have 
put  thee  into  such  imminent  danger:  pra}',  my 
brother,  forgive  me ;  I  did  not  do  it  of  an  evil 
intent. 

Hope.  Be  comforted,  my  brother,  for  I  forgive 
thee ;  and  believe,  too,  that  this  shall  be  for  our 
good. 

Chr.  I  am  glad  I  have  with  me  a  merciful 
brother :  but  we  must  not  stanc'  here  ;  let  us  try  to 
go  back  again. 

Hope.  But,  good  brother,  let  me  go  before. 

Chr.  No,  if  you  please,  let  me  ^c   first,  that  if 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  1 95 

there  be  any  danger,  I  may  be  firsl  therein  ;  bccanse 
by  my  means  we  are  both  gone  out  of  the  way. 

No,  said  Hopeful,  vou  sliall  not  go  first ;  for  jour 
mind  being  troubled  may  lead  you  out  of  the  way 
again.  Then,  for  their  encoinagement,  the}'  heard 
the  voice  of  one  saying,  "  Let  thine  heart  be  towards 
the  highway  ;  even  the  way  tiiat  tiiou  wcntcst,  turn 
again."  ^  But  by  this  time  the  waters  were  greatly 
risen,  by  reason  of  which  tlie  way  of  going  back 
was  very  dangerous.  (Then  I  thought,  that  it  is 
easier  going  out  of  tlie  way  when  we  are  in,  than 
going  in  when  we  are  out.)  Yet  they  adventured  to 
go  back  ;  but  it  was  so  dark,  and  the  flood  was  so 
high,  that  in  their  going  back  they  had  like  to  have 
been  drowned,  nine  or  ten  times. 

Neither  could  they,  with  all  the  skill  they  had,  get 
again  to  the  stile  that  night.  Wherefore  at  last, 
lighting  under  a  little  shelter,  they  sat  down  there 
till  the  day-break  :  but  being  weary  they  fell  asleep. 
Now,  there  was,  not  far  from  the  place  where  they 
lay,  a  castle,  called  Doubting  Castle,  the  owner 
whereof  was  Giant  Despair ;  and  it  was  in  his 
grounds  they  now  were  sleeping.  Wherefore  he 
getting  up  in  the  morning  early,  and  walking  up  and 
down  in  his  fields,  caught  Christian  and  Hopeful 
asleep  in  his  grounds.  Then  with  a  grim  and  surly 
'  Jer.  xxxi.  21. 


196  THE  PILGRIM   S  PROGRESS. 

voice  he  bid  them  awake,  and  asked  them  w.ience 
they  were,  and  what  they  did  in  his  grounds.  They 
tohl  him  they  were  pilgrims,  and  that  they  had  lost 
their  way.  Tlien  said  the  giant,  You  have  this  night 
trespassed  on  me  by  trampling  in,  and  lying  on  my 
grounds,  and  therefore  you  must  go  along  with  me. 
So  they  were  forced  to  go,  because  he  was  stronger 
than  they.  They  also  had  but  little  to  say,  for  they 
knew  themselves  in  a  fiiult.  The  giant,  therefore, 
drove  them  before  him,  and  put  them  into  his  castle, 
into  a  very  dark  dungeon,  nasty  and  stinking  to  the 
spirits  of  these  two  men.  Here  then  they  lay  from 
Wednesday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  without  one 
bit  of  bread,  or  drop  of  drink,  or  light,  or  any  to 
ask  how  the}-  did  :  they  were,  therefore,  here  in  evil 
case,  and  were  far  from  friends  and  acquaintance.' 
Now  in  this  place  Christian  had  double  sorrow,  be- 
cause it  was  through  his  unadvised  counsel  that  they 
were  brought  into  this  distress. 

Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  wife,  and  her  name  was 
Diffidence  :  so,  when  he  was  gone  to  bed,  he  told 
his  wife  what  he  had  done  ;  to  wit,  that  he  had  taken 
a  couple  of  prisoners,  and  cast  them  into  his  dungeon 
for  trespassing  on  his  grounds.  Then  he  asked  her 
also  what  he  had  best  do  further  to  them  }  So  she 
asked  what  they  were,  whence  they  came,  and 
1  Ps.  Ixxxviii.  18. 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  197 

wliilher  tliey  were  bound  ;  and  he  told  her.  Then 
she  counselled  him,  that  when  he  arose  in  the  morn- 
ing he  should  beat  them  without  mercy.  So  when 
lie  arose,  he  gettetli  him  a  grievous  crab-tree  cudgel, 
and  goes  down  into  the  dungeon  to  them,  and  there 
first  falls  to  rating  of  them  as  if  they  were  dogs, 
although  they  gave  him  never  a  word  of  distaste  : 
then  he  falls  upon  them,  and  beats  them  fearfulK".  in 
such  sort  that  they  were  not  able  to  help  themselves, 
or  to  turn  them  upon  the  floor.  This  done,  he  with- 
draws, and  leaves  them  there  to  condole  their  misery, 
and  to  mourn  under  their  distress :  so  all  that  day 
they  spent  their  time  in  nothing  but  sighs  and  bitter 
lamentations.  The  next  night  she,  talking  with  her 
husband  further  about  them,  and  understanding  that 
they  wxre  yet  alive,  did  advise  him  to  counsel  them 
to  make  away  with  themselves.  So,  when  morning 
was  come,  he  goes  to  them  in  a  surly  manner  as  be- 
fore, and  perceiving  them  to  be  very  sore  with  the 
stripes  that  he  had  given  them  the  day  before,  he 
told  them,  that  since  they  were  never  like  to  come 
out  of  that  place,  their  only  way  would  be  forthwith 
to  make  an  end  of  themselves,  either  with  knife, 
halter,  or  poison :  For  why,  said  he,  should  you 
choose  to  live,  seeing  it  is  attended  with  so  much 
bitterness.  But  they  desired  him  to  let  them  go. 
With  that  he  lookec    ugly  upon  them,  and,  rushing 


19S  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

to  them,  had  doubtless  made  an  end  of  them  him 
self,  but  that  he  fell  into  one  of  his  fits  (for  he  some- 
times, in  sunshiny  weather,  fell  into  fits),  and  lost 
for  a  time  the  use  of  his  hands.  Wherefore  lie 
withdrew,  and  left  them,  as  before,  to  consider  what 
to  do.  Then  did  the  prisoners  consult  between 
themselves  whether  it  was  best  to  take  his  counsel, 
or  no  ;  and  thus  they  began  to  discourse  : 

Brother,  said  Christian,  what  shall  we  do.''  The 
life  that  we  now  live  is  miserable.  For  my  part,  I 
know  not  whether  it  is  best  to  live  thus,  or  to  die  out 
of  hand  ;  "  my  soul  chooseth  strangling  rather  than 
life,"^  and  the  grave  is  more  easy  for  me  than  this 
dungeon  !     Shall  we  be  ruled  by  the  giant? 

Hope.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dreadful, 
and  death  would  be  far  more  welcome  to  me  thus 
for  ever  to  abide  :  but  yet  let  us  consider  ;  the  Lord 
of  the  country  to  which  we  are  going  hath  said, 
"  Thou  shalt  do  no  murder ;"  no,  not  to  another 
man's  person  :  much  more  then  are  we  forbidden  to 
take  his  counsel  to  kill  ourselves.  Besides,  he  that 
kills  another  can  but  commit  murder  upon  his  body  ; 
but,  for  one  to  kill  himself,  is  to  kill  body  and  soul 
at  once.  And,  moreover,  my  brother,  thou  talkcst 
of  ease  in  the  grave  ;  but  hast  thou  forgotten  tlie  hell 
whither  for  eel  tair.  the  murderers  go.^  for  "  no  mur- 
1  Job  vii.  15. 


THE  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS.  199 

dcrcr  h.ith  eternal  life,"  etc.  And  let  us  consider 
again,  that  all  the  law  is  not  in  the  hand  of  Giant 
Despair:  others,  so  far  as  I  can  understand,  have 
been  taken  bv  him  as  well  as  we,  and  yet  have  es- 
caped out  of  his  hands.  Who  knows  but  that  God, 
who  made  the  world,  may  cause  that  Giant  Despair 
mav  die,  or  that,  at  some  time  or  other,  he  may  for- 
get to  lock  us  in  ;  or  that  he  may  in  a  short  time 
have  another  of  his  fits  before  us,  and  may  lose  the 
use  of  his  limbs.^  and  if  ever  that  should  come  to 
pass  again,  for  my  part,  I  am  resolved  to  pluck  up 
the  heart  of  a  man,  and  to  try  my  utmost  to  get  from 
under  his  hand.  I  was  a  fool  that  I  did  not  try  to 
do  it  before  :  but,  however,  my  brother,  let  us  be 
patient,  and  endure  a  while  ;  the  time  may  come 
that  may  give  us  a  happy  release  ;  but  let  us  not  be 
our  own  murderers.  With  these  words  Hopeful  at 
present  did  moderate  the  mind  of  his  brother  ;  so 
they  continued  together  in  the  dark  that  day,  in  their 
sad  and  doleful  condition. 

Well,  towards  evening  the  giant  goes  down  into 
the  dungeon  again,  to  see  if  his  prisoners  had  taken 
his  counsel :  but  when  he  came  there,  he  found 
them  alive  ;  and,  truly,  alive  was  all,  for  now,  what 
for  want  of  bread  and  water,  and  by  reason  of  the 
wounds  they  received  when  he  beat  them,  they  could 
do  little  but  breathe.     But,  I  say,  he  found  them 


200  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

alive  ;  at  which  he  fell  into  a  grievous  rage,  and  told 
them  that,  seeing  they  had  disobeyed  his  counsel,  it 
should  be  worse  with  them  than  if  they  had  never 
been  born. 

At  this  they  trembled  greatly,  and  I  think  that 
Christian  fell  into  a  swoon  ;  but,  coming  a  little  to 
himself  again,  they  renewed  their  discourse  about 
the  giant's  counsel :  and  whether  yet  they  had  best 
take  it  or  no.  Now,  Christian  again  seemed  for 
doing  it,  but  Hopeful  made  his  second  reply  as 
followeth  : 

My  brother,  said  he,  rememberest  thou  not  how 
valiant  thou  hast  been  heretofore .''  Apollyon  could 
not  crush  thee,  nor  could  all  that  thou  didst  hear,  or 
see,  or  feel  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  ; 
what  hardship,  terror,  and  amazement  hast  thou  al- 
ready gone  through,  and  art  thou  now  nothing  but 
fears?  Thou  seest  that  I  am  in  the  dungeon  with 
thee,  a  far  weaker  man  by  nature  than  thou  art ; 
also  this  giant  hath  wounded  me  as  well  as  thee, 
and  hath  also  cut  oft'  the  bread  and  water  from  my 
mouth,  and  with  thee  I  mourn  without  the  lighc 
But  let  us  exercise  a  little  more  patience  ;  remember 
how  thou  playedst  the  man  at  Vanity  Fair,  and 
wast  neither  afraid  of  the  chain  nor  cage,  nor  yet 
of  bloody  death  :  wherefore  let  us  (at  least  to 
avoid   the  shane  that  becomes   not  a   Christian   to 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  20I 

he  found  in)  bear  up  with  patience  as  well  as  we 
can. 

Now,  nigit  being  come  again,  and  the  giant  and 
his  \\  ife  being  in  bed,  she  asked  him  concerning  the 
prisoners,  and  if  they  had  taken  his  counsel :  to 
w'hich  he  replied,  Tliey  are  sturdy  rogues,  they 
choose  rather  to  bear  all  hardships  than  to  make 
away  with  themselves.  Then  said  she,  Take  them 
into  the  castle-yard  to-morrow,  and  show  them  the 
bones  and  skulls  of  those  thou  hast  already  des- 
patched, and  make  them  believe,  ere  a  week  comes 
to  an  end,  thou  wilt  tear  them  in  pieces,  as  thou  hast 
done  their  fellows  before  them. 

So  when  the  morning  was  come,  the  giant  goes  to 
them  again,  and  takes  them  into  the  castle-yard,  and 
shows  them  as  his  wife  had  bidden  him.  These, 
said  he,  were  pilgrims,  as  you  are,  once,  and  they 
trespassed  on  my  grounds,  as  you  have  done,  and 
when  I  thought  fit,  I  tore  them  in  pieces ;  and  so 
within  ten  days  I  will  do  you.  Get  you  down  to 
your  den  again  :  and  with  that  he  beat  them  all  the 
way  thither.  They  lay,  therefore,  all  day  on  Satur- 
day in  a  lamentable  case,  as  before.  Now.  when 
night  was  come,  and  when  Mrs.  Diffidence  and  her 
husband  the  giant  were  got  to  bed,  they  began  to  re- 
new th  'ir  discourse  of  their  prisoners  ;  and,  withal, 
the  old   siaii:  wondei  "^d  that  he  could  neither  bv  his 


202  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

blows  nDi-  counsel  bring  them  to  an  end.  And  with 
that  his  wife  replied,  I  fear,  said  she,  that  they  live 
in  hopes  that  some  will  come  to  relieve  them,  or  that 
they  have  picklocks  about  them,  by  the  means  of 
which  they  hope  to  escape.  And  sayest  thou  so, 
my  dear.f'  said  the  giant;  I  will  therefore  search 
them  in  the  morning. 

Well,  on  Saturday,  about  midnight,  they  began  to 
pray,  and  continued  in  prayer  till  almost  break  of 
day. 

Now,  a  little  before  it  was  day,  good  Christian, 
as  one  half  amazed,  brake  out  into  this  passionate 
speech  :  What  a  fool,  quoth  he,  am  I,  thus  to  lie  in 
a  stinking  dungeon,  when  I  may  as  well  walk  at 
liberty  !  I  have  a  key  in  my  bosom,  called  Promise, 
that  will,  I  am  persuaded,  open  any  lock  in  Doubt- 
ing Castle.  Then  said  Hopeful,  That's  good  news, 
good  brother,  pluck  it  out  of  thy  bosom,  and  try. 

Then  Christian  pulled  it  out  of  his  bosom,  and 
began  to  try  at  the  dungeon  door,  whose  bolt,  as  he 
turned  the  key,  gave  back  and  the  door  flew  open 
with  ease,  and  Christian  and  Hopeful  both  came  out. 
Then  he  went  to  the  outward  door  that  leads  into 
the  castle-yai"d,  and  with  his  key  opened  that  door 
also.  After  that,  he  went  to  the  iron  gate,  for  that 
must  be  opened  too  ;  but  that  lock  went  very  hard  ; 
yet  the  key  did  open  it      Then  they  thrust  open  the 


Escape  from  Doubting  Caoik. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  203 

gate  to  make  their  escape  with  speed  ;  but  that  gate 
as  it  Dpened  made  such  a  creaking,  that  it  waked 
Giant  Despair,  who  hastily  rising  to  pursue  his 
prisoners,  felt  his  limbs  to  fail,  for  his  fits  took  him 
again,  so  that  he  could  by  no  means  go  after  them. 
Then  they  went  on,  and  came  to  the  King's  high- 
way, and  so  were  safe,  because  they  were  out  of  his 
jurisdiction. 

Now,  when  they  were  gone  over  the  stile,  they 
began  to  contrive  with  themselves  what  they  should 
do  at  that  stile  to  prevent  those  that  shall  come  after 
from  falling  into  the  hand  of  Giant  Despair.  So 
they  consented  to  erect  there  a  pillar,  and  to  engrave 
upon  the  side  thereof  this  sentence,  "  Over  this  stile 
is  the  way  to  Doubting  Castle,  which  is  kept  by 
Giant  Despair,  who  despiseth  the  King  of  the  celes- 
tial country,  and  seeks  to  destroy  his  holy  pilgrims." 
Many,  therefore,  that  followed  after,  read  what  was 
written,  and  escaped  the  danger.  This  done,  they 
.sang  as  follows — 

Out  of  the  way  we  went,  and  then  we  found 

What  'twas  to  tread  upon  forbidden  ground : 

And  let  them  that  come  after  have  a  care 

Lest  heedlessness  make  them  as  we  to  fare  : 

Lest  they,  for  trespassing,  his  prisoners  are, 

Whose  castle's  Doubting,  and  whose  name's  Despair. 

They  went  then  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable 


204  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Mountains,  which  mountains  belong  to  the  Lord  of 
the  hill  of  which  we  have  spoken  before  ;  so  they 
went  up  to  the  mountains,  to  behold  the  gardens  and 
orchards,  the  vineyards  and  fountains  of  water ; 
where  also  they  drank,  and  washed  themselves,  and 
did  freely  eat  of  the  vineyards.  Now,  there  were 
on  the  tops  of  these  mountains  Shepherds  feeding 
their  flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the  highway  side. 
The  pilgrims,  therefore,  went  to  them,  and  leaning 
upon  their  staves  (as  is  common  with  weary  pilgrims 
when  they  stand  to  talk  with  any  by  the  way),  they 
asked,  "  Whose  Delectable  Mountains  are  these?  and 
whose  be  the  sheep  that  feed  upon  them  ?" 

Shep.  These  mountains  are  Emmanuel's  Land, 
and  they  are  within  sight  of  his  city  ;  and  the  sheep 
also  are  his,  and  he  laid  down  his  life  for  them.^ 

Chr.  Is  this  the  way  to  the  celestial  city? 

Shep.  You  are  just  in  your  way. 

Chr.  How  far  is  it  thither? 

Shep.  Too  fixr  for  any  but  those  that  shall  get 
thither  indeed. 

Chr.  Is  the  way  safe  or  dangerous? 

Shep.  Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be  safe  ; 
"but  transgressors  shall  fall  therein."'^ 

Chr.  Is  there  in  this  place  any  relief  for  pilgrims 
that  are  weary  and  faint  in  the  way  ? 

1  John  X.  II,  1}  2  Hos.  xiv.  9. 


<^^^-^J^^^^i^,^v^'^^^ 


*o^*  ri*-!    ■^T-  --^^ 


The  Delectable  Mountains. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  205 

Shep.  The  Lord  of  these  mountains  hath  given 
us  a  charge,  "•  not  to  be  forgetful  to  entertain  stran- 
gers ;" '  therefore  the  good  of  the  phice  is  before 
you. 

I  saw  also  in  my  dream,  that,  when  the  Shepherds 
perceived  that  they  were  wayfaring  men,  they  also 
put  .questions  to  them  (to  which  they  made  answer, 
as  i*  other  places),  as.  Whence  came  you?  and 
Ho\v  got  you  into  the  way?  and,  By  what  means 
have  you  so  persevered  therein?  for  but  few  of  them 
that  begin  to  come  hither  do  show  their  face  on  these 
mountains.  But  when  the  Shepherds  heard  their 
answers,  being  pleased  therewith,  they  looked  very 
lovingly  upon  them,  and  said.  Welcome  to  the  De- 
lectable Mountains. 

The  Shepherds,  I  say,  whose  names  were  Know- 
ledge, Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere,  took  them 
by  the  hand,  and  had  them  to  their  tents,  and  made 
them  partake  of  that  which  was  ready  at  present. 
They  said,  moreover.  We  would  tliat  you  should 
stay  here  a  while,  to  be  acquainted  with  us,  and  yet 
more  to  solace  yourselves  with  the  good  of  these 
Delectable  Mountains.  Then  they  told  them,  that 
they  were  content  to  stay.  And  so  they  went  to 
their  rest  that  night,  because  it  was  very  late. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  in  the  morning  the 
'  Heb.  xiii.  2. 


2o6  THE  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

Shepherds  called  up  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  waliv 
with  them  upon  the  mountains.  So  they  went  forth 
with  them,  and  walked  a  while,  having  a  pleasant 
prospect  on  every  side.  Then  said  the  Shepherds 
one  to  another.  Shall  we  show  these  pilgrims  some 
wonders.''  So  when  they  had  concluded  to  do  it, 
they  had  them  first  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  called  Error, 
which  was  very  steep  on  the  farthest  side,  and  bid 
them  look  down  to  the  bottom.  So  Christian  and 
Hopeful  looked  down,  and  saw  at  the  bottom  several 
men  dashed  all  to  pieces  by  a  fall  that  they  had  from 
the  top.  Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth  this.'' 
The  Shepherds  answered.  Have  you  not  heard  of 
them  that  were  made  to  err,  by  barkening  to  Hy- 
menius  and  Philetus,^  as  concerning  the  faith  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  body  ?  They  answered,  Yes. 
Then  said  the  Shepherds,  those  that  you  see  lie 
dashed  in  pieces  at  the  bottom  of  this  mountain  are 
they  ;  and  they  have  continued  to  this  day  unburied, 
as  you  see,  for  an  example  to  others,  to  take  heed 
how  they  clamber  too  high,  or  how  they  come  too 
near  the  brink  of  this  mountain. 

Then  I  saw  that  they  had   them  to  the  top  of  an- 
other mountain,  and  the  name  of  that  is   Caution, 
and  bid  them  look  afar  oft';  which  when  they  did, 
they  perceived,  as  they  thought,  several   men  walk- 
1  2  Tira.  ii.  17,  18. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  207 

ing  up  and  down  among  the  tombs  that  were  there  : 
and  they  perceived  that  the  men  were  blind,  because 
they  stumbled  sometimes  upon  the  tombs,  and  be- 
cause they  could  not  get  out  from  among  them. 
Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this? 

The  Shepherds  then  answered.  Did  you  not  see,  a 
little  below  these  mountains,  a  stile  that  led  into  a 
meadow,  on  the  left  hand  of  this  way?  They  an- 
swered. Yes.  Then  said  the  Shepherds,  From  that 
stile  there  goes  a  path  that  leads  directly  to  Doubting 
Castle,  which  is  kept  by  Giant  Despair,  and  these 
men  (pointing  to  them  among  the  tombs)  came  once 
on  pilgrimage,  as  you  do  now,  even  till  they  came 
to  that  same  stile.  And,  because  the  right  way  was 
rough  in  that  place,  they  chose  to  go  out  of  it  into 
that  meadow,  and  there  were  taken  by  Giant  Des- 
pair, and  cast  into  Doubting  Castle  ;  where,  after 
they  had  a  while  been  kept  in  the  dungeon,  he  at 
last  did  put  out  their  eyes,  and  led  them  among 
those  tombs,  where  he  has  left  them  to  wander  to 
this  very  day,  that  the  saying  of  the  wise  man  might 
be  fulfilled,  "  He  that  wandereth  out  of  the  way  of 
understanding  shall  remain  in  the  congregation  of 
the  dead."^  Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  looked 
one  upon  another,  with  tears  gushing  out,  but  yet 
said  nothing  to  the  Shepherds. 
'  Prov.  xxi.  16. 


2o8  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  Shepherds  had 
them  to  another  place,  in  a  bottom,  where  was  a 
door  in  the  side  of  a  hill  :  and  they  opened  the  door, 
and  bid  them  look  in.  They  looked  in,  therefore, 
and  saw  that  within  it  was  very  dark  and  smoky  ; 
they  also  thought  that  they  heard  there  a  rumbling 
noise,  as  of  fire,  and  a  cry  of  some  tormented  ;  and 
that  tiiey  smelt  the  scent  of  brimstone.  Then  said 
Christian,  What  means  this.^  The  Shepherds  told 
them,  This  is  a  by-way  to  hell,  a  way  that  hypocrites 
go  in  at ;  namely,  such  as  sell  their  birth-right,  with 
Esau  ;  such  as  sell  their  Master,  with  Judas  ;  such 
as  blaspheme  the  gospel,  with  Alexander ;  and  that 
lie  and  dissemble,  with  Ananias,  and  Sapphira  his 
wife. 

Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  Shepherds,  I  per- 
ceive that  these  had  on  them,  even  every  one,  a 
show  of  pilgrimage,  as  we  have  now  ;  had  they 
not? 

Shep.  Yes,  and  held  it  a  long  time  too. 

Hope.  How  far  might  they  go  on  in  pilgrimage 
in  their  day,  since  they,  notwithstanding,  were  thus 
miserably  cast  away.? 

Shep.  Some  further,  and  some  not  so  far  as  these 
mountains. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims  one  to  the  other,  We  had 
need  to  cry  to  the  Strong  for  strength. 


v^^^Sj^-' 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  209 

SiiEP.  Ay,  and  vou  will  have  need  to  use  it  when 
you  have  it  too. 

By  this  time  the  pil<jrinis  had  a  desire  to  go  for- 
ward, and  the  Shepherds  a  desire  they  should  ;  so 
they  walked  together  towards  the  end  of  the  moun- 
tains. Then  said  the  Shepherds  one  to  another, 
Let  us  here  show  the  pilgrims  tlie  gates  of  the  Ce- 
lestial City,  if  they  have  skill  to  look  through  our 
perspective-glass.  The  jDilgrims  lovingly  accepted 
the  motion  :  so  they  had  them  to  the  top  of  a 
high  hill,  called  Clear,  and  gave  them  the  glass  to 
look. 

Then  they  tried  to  look,  but  the  remembrance  of 
that  last  thing  that  the  Shepherds  had  shown  them 
made  their  hands  shake  ;  by  means  of  which  im- 
pediment they  could  not  look  steadily  through  the 
glass  ;  yet  they  thought  they  saw  something  like  the 
gate,  and  also  some  of  the  glory  of  the  place.  Then 
they  went  away,  and  sang  this  song : 

Thus  by  the  Shepherds  secrets  are  revealed, 
Which  from  all  other  men  are  kept  concealed  : 
Come  to  the  Shepherds  then,  if  you  would  see 
Things  deep,  things  hid,  and  that  mysterious  be. 

When    thev    were    about    to    depart,    one    of   the 
Shepherds  gave   them  a  note  of  the  way.     Another 
of  them  bid  them  beware  of  the  flatterer.     The  third 
14 


2IO  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

bid  them  take  heed  that  they  slept  not  upon  t  .e  en- 
chanted ground.  And  the  fourth  bid  theni  God 
speed.     So  1  awoke  from  my  dream. 

And  I  slept,  and  dreamed  again,  and  saw  the 
same  two  pilgrims  going  down  the  mountains  along 
the  highway  towards  the  city.  Now,  a  little  below 
these  mountains,  on  the  left  hand,  lieth  the  country 
of  Conceit,  from  which  country  there  comes  into  the 
way  in  which  the  pilgrims  walked  a  little  crooked 
lane.  Here,  therefore,  they  met  with  a  very  brisk 
lad  that  came  out  of  that  country,  and  his  name  was 
Ignorance.  So  Christian  asked  him  from  what 
parts  he  came,  and  whither  he  was  going.'' 

Ignor.  Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  country  that  lieth 
off  there  a  little  on  the  left  hand,  and  I  am  going  to 
the  Celestial  City. 

Chr.  But  how  do  you  think  to  get  in  at  the  gate  } 
for  you  may  find  some  difficulty  there. 

As  other  good  people  do,  said  he. 

Chr.  But  what  have  you  to  show  at  that  gate, 
that  the  gate  should  be  opened  to  you  "i 

Ignor.  I  know  my  Lord's  will,  and  have  been  a 
good  liver ;  I  pay  every  man  his  own  ;  I  pray,  fast, 
pay  tithes,  and  give  alms,  and  have  left  my  country 
for  whither  I  am  going. 

Chr.  But  thou  camest  not  in   at  the  Wicket-srate 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  21 ; 

that  is  at  the  head  of  this  way;  thou  cf  mest  \\\ 
hither  tlirough  that  same  crooked  hme  ;  and  there- 
fore I  fear,  however  thou  mayest  think  of  thyself, 
wlien  the  reckoning-day  shall  come,  thou  wilt  have 
laid  to  thy  charge  that  thou  art  a  thief  and  a  robber, 
instead  of  getting-  admittance  into  the  city. 

Ignor.  Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers  to  me,  I 
know  you  not ;  be  content  to  follow  the  religion  of 
your  country,  and  I  will  follow  the  religion  of  mine. 
I  hope  all  will  be  well.  And,  as  for  the  gate  that 
you  talk  of,  all  the  world  knows  that  it  is  a  great 
way  off  of  our  coinitry.  I  cannot  think  tliat  any 
man  in  all  our  parts  doth  so  much  as  know  the  way 
to  it ;  nor  need  they  matter  whether  they  do  or  no, 
since  we  have,  as  you  see,  a  fine  pleasant  green  lane 
that  comes  down  from  our  country,  the  next  way 
into  the  way. 

When  Christian  saw  that  the  man  was  wise  in  his 
own  conceit,  he  said  to  Hopeful,  whisperingly, 
"There  is  more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of  him  ;"^  and 
said,  moreover,  "  Wiien  he  that  is  a  fool  walketh  by 
the  way,  his  wisdom  fiiileth  him,  and  he  saith  to 
every  one  that  he  is  a  fool."^  What!  shall  we  talk 
further  with  him,  or  outgo  him  at  present,  and  so 
leave  him  to  think  of  what  he  hath  heard  already, 
and  then  stop  again  foi  him  after'vards,  and  see  if  by 
1  Prov.  xxvi.  12.  ^  Eccles.  x.  3. 


212  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

degrees  we  can  do  any  good  to   liim?     Then  said 
Hopeful — 

Let  Ignorance  a  little  while  now  muse 
On  what  is  said,  and  let  him  not  refuse 
Good  counsel  to  embrace,  lest  he  remain 
Still  ignorant  of  what's  the  chiefest  gain. 
God  saith,  those  that  no  understanding  have, 
Although  he  made  them,  them  he  will  not  save. 

He  further  added,  It  is  not  good,  I  think,  to  say  so 
to  him  all  at  once  ;  let  us  pass  him  by,  if  you  will, 
and  talk  to  him  anon,  even  as  he  is  "  able  to  bear 
it." 

So  they  both  went  on,  and  Ignorance  he  came 
after.  Now  when  they  had  passed  him  a  little  wa}', 
they  entered  into  a  very  dark  lane,  where  they  met  a 
man  whom  seven  devils  had  bound  with  seven 
strong  cords,  and  were  carrying  him  back  to  the 
door  that  they  saw  on  the  side  of  the  hill.^  Now, 
good  Christian  began  to  tremble,  and  so  did  Hopeful 
his  companion  ;  yet  as  the  devils  led  away  the  man. 
Christian  looked  to  see  if  he  knew  him  ;  and  he 
thought  it  might  be  one  Turn-away,  that  dwelt  in 
the  town  of  Apostasy.  But  he  did  not  perfectly  see 
Ills  face,  for  he  did  hang  his  head  like  a  thief  that  is 
found.  But  being  gone  past.  Hopeful  looked  after 
^  Matt.  xii.  45  ;  Prov.  v.  22. 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  213 

him,  and  spied  on  his  back  a  paper  with  this 
inscription,  "  Wanton  professor,  and  damnable 
apo&tate." 

Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  Now  I  call  to 
remembrance  that  which  was  told  me,  of  a  thing 
that  happened  to  a  good  man  hereabout.  The  name 
of  the  man  was  Little-faith  ;  but  a  good  man,  and 
he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Sincere.  The  thing  was 
this  : — at  the  entering  in  at  this  passage,  there  comes 
down  from  Broadway-gate  a  lane  called  Dead-man's 
lane  ;  so  called  because  of  the  murders  that  are  com- 
monly done  tliere ;  and  this  Little-faith  going  on 
pilgrimage,  as  we  do  now,  chanced  to  sit  down 
there,  and  sleep  :  now  there  happened  at  that  time 
to  come  down  the  lane  from  Broadway-gate,  three 
sturdy  rogues,  and  their  names  were  Faint-heart, 
Mistrust,  and  Guilt,  three  brothers ;  and  they  spying 
Little-faith  where  he  was,  came  galloping  up  with 
speed.  Now,  the  good  man  was  just  awakened 
from  his  sleep,  and  was  getting  up  to  go  on  his 
journey.  So  they  came  up  all  to  him,  and  with 
threatening  language  bid  him  stand,  At  this  Little- 
faith  looked  as  white  as  a  clout,  and  had  neither 
power  to  fight  nor  fly.  Then  said  Faint-heart,  De- 
liver thy  purse  ;  but  he  making  no  haste  to  do  it  (tor 
he  was  \ot\  to  lose  his  money),  Mistrust  ran  up  to 
him.  and  t'  rusting  h  s  hand  into   his  pocket,  loulled 


ai4  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

out  thence  a  bag  of  silver.  Then  he  cried  out, 
"  Thieves,  thieves  !"  With  that  Guilt,  with  a  great 
club  that  v\  as  in  his  hand,  struck  Little-faith  on  the 
head,  and  with  that  blow  felled  him  flat  to  the 
ground ;  where  he  lay  bleeding  as  one  that  would 
bleed  to  death.  All  this  while  the  thieves  stood  by. 
But  at  last,  they  hearing  that  some  were  upon  the 
road,  and  fearing  lest  it  should  be  one  Great- 
grace,  that  dwells  in  the  town  of  Good  Confidence, 
they  betook  themselves  to  their  heels,  and  left  this 
good  man  to  shift  for  himself.  Now,  after  a  while. 
Little-faith  came  to  himself,  and,  getting  up,  made 
shift  to  scramble  on  his  way.  This  was  the 
story. 

Hope.  But  did  they  take  from  him  all  that  ever  he 
had? 

Chr.  No  ;  the  place  where  his  jewels  were,  they 
never  ransacked  ;  so  those  he  kept  still.  But,  as  I 
was  told,  the  good  man  was  much  afflicted  for  his 
loss,  for  the  thieves  got  most  of  his  spending-money. 
That  which  they  got  not  (as  I  said)  were  jewels ; 
also  he  had  a  little  odd  money  left,  but  scarce  enough 
to  bring  him  to  his  journey's  end.^  Nay  (if  I  was 
not  misinformed),  he  was  forced  to  beg  as  he  went, 
to  keep  himself  alive,  for  his  jewels  he  might  not 
sell  ;  but,  beg  :  nd  dr  what  he  could,  he  went,  as  we 
I  Pet.  iv.  1 8. 


THE  PILGRIM- S  FROURESS.  215 

say,  with  many  a  hungry  belly  the  most  part  of  the 
rest  of  the  way. 

Hope.  But  is  it  not  a  wonder  they  got  not  from 
him  his  certificate,  by  which  he  was  to  receive  his 
admittance  at  the  Celestial  Gate.'' 

Chr.  It  is  a  wonder  :  but  they  got  not  that,  though 
they  missed  it  not  through  any  good  cunning  of  his; 
for  he,  being  dismayed  with  their  coming  upon  him, 
had  neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  anything :  so  it 
was  more  by  good  providence  than  by  his  endeavour 
that  they  missed  of  that  good  thing. ^ 

Hope.  But  it  must  needs  be  a  comfort  to  him,  that 
thev  got  not  this  jewel  from  him. 

CiiR.  It  might  have  been  great  comfort  to  him, 
had  he  used  it  as  he  should  ;  but  they  that  told  me 
the  story  said,  that  he  made  but  little  use  of  it  all  the 
rest  of  the  way,  and  that  because  of  the  dismay  that 
he  had  in  their  taking  away  his  money.  Indeed,  he 
forgot  it  a  great  part  of  the  rest  of  his  journey  ;  and 
besides,  when  at  any  time  it  came  into  his  mind,  and 
he  began  to  be  comforted  therew'ith,  then  would 
fresh  thoughts  of  his  loss  come  again  upon  him,  and 
these  thoughts  would  swallow  up  all. 

Hope.  Alas,  poor  man  !  this  could  not  but  be  a 
great  grief  to  him. 

CiiR.  (jrief!  ay,  a  grief  indeed.  Would  it  not 
1  2  Tim.  i.  r4 ;  2  Pet.  ii.  19. 


2l6  THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

have  been  so  to  any  of  us,  had  we  been  used  as  he, 
to  be  robbed  and  wounded  too,  and  that  in  a  strange 
place,  as  he  was?  It  is  a  wonder  he  did  not  die 
wit.i  grief,  poor  heart !  I  was  told  that  he  scattered 
almost  all  the  rest  of  the  way  with  nothing  but  dole- 
ful and  bitter  complaints :  telling  also  to  all  that 
overtook  him,  or  tbp.t  he  overtook  in  the  way  as  he 
went,  where  he  was  robbed,  and  how  ;  who  they 
were  that  did  it,  and  what  he  had  lost ;  how  he  was 
wounded,  and  that  he  hardly  escaped  with  life. 

Hope.  But  it  is  a  wonder  that  his  necessity  did 
not  put  him  upon  selling  or  pawning  some  of  his 
jewels,  that  he  might  have  wherewith  to  relieve 
himself  on  his  journe3\ 

Chr.  Thou  talkest  like  one  upon  whose  head  is 
the  shell  to  this  very  day :  for  what  should  he  pawn 
them  ?  or  to  whom  should  he  sell  them  ?  In  all  that 
country  where  he  was  robbed,  his  jewels  were  not 
accounted  of;  nor  did  he  want  that  relief  which 
could  from  thence  be  administered  to  him.  Besides, 
had  his  jewels  been  missing  at  the  gate  of  the  Ce- 
lestial City,  he  had  (and  that  he  knew  well  enough) 
been  excluded  from  an  inheritance  there  ;  and  that 
would  have  been  worse  to  him  than  the  appearance 
and  villainy  of  ten  thousand  thieves. 
.  Hope.  Why  art  thou  so  tart,  my  brother?  Esao 
sold    hif    birthright,    and    that   for    a    mes'^   of  pot- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  ii? 

tncje  ;'    and   that  liirthrii^ht   was  his  greatest  jewel  • 
and  if  he,  why  might  not  Little-faith  do  so  too? 

Cim.  Esau  did   sell   his  birthright  indeed,  and  hO 
do   many  besides,   and  by   so   doing  exclude    them- 
selves from  the  chief  blessings,  as  also  that  caililV 
did  :  but  you  must  put  a  difference  betwixt  Esau  and 
Little-faith,    as    also    betwixt   their   estates.     Esau's 
birthright  was  typical,  but   Little-faith's  jewels  were 
not  so.     Esau's  l)elly  was  his  god,  but  Little-faith's 
belly  was  not  so.     Esau's  want  lay  in  his  fleshly  ap- 
petite. Little-faith's  did  not  so.     Besides,  Esau  could 
see  no  further  than  to  the  fulfilling  of  his  lusts  :  "  For 
I  am   at  the  point  to  die  (said  he),  and  what  good 
will  this  birthright  do  me .?'     But  Little-faith,  though' 
it  was  his  lot  to  have  but  a  little  faith,  was  by  his 
little  faith  kept  from  such   extravagances,  and   made 
to  see  and  pri/c  his  jewels   more,  than  to  sell   them 
as  Esau  did  his  birthright.     You  read  not  anywhere 
that  Esau   had  faith,   no,  not  so  much   as  a  little  ; 
therefore   no   marvel,  if,  where  the   flesh   only  bears 
sway  (as  it  will  in  that  man  where  no  faith   is  to  re- 
sist), if  he  sells  his  birthright,  and  his  soul  and  all, 
and  that  to  the  devil  of  hell ;  for  it  is  with  such  as  it 
is  with   the   ass,  "  who   in   her  occasions  cannot  be 
turned  away  :"^  when  their  minds  are  set  upon  their 
'usts,  they  will  have  them,  whatever  they  cost.     But 
Ilcb.  xii.  i6.  ^  Gen.  xxv.  32.  '  Jer.  ii.  24. 


21 8  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Little-faith  was  of  another  temper ;  his  mind  was  on 
things  divine  ;  his  livelihood  was  upon  things  that 
were  spiritual  and  from  above  :  therefore,  to  what 
end  should  he  that  is  of  such  a  temper  sell  his  jewels 
(had  there  been  any  that  would  have  bought  them), 
to  fill  his  mind  with  empty  things?  Will  a  man 
give  a  penny  to  fill  his  belly  with  hay?  or  can  you 
persuade  the  turtle-dove  to  live  ujDon  carrion,  like  the 
crow?  Though  faithless  ones  can,  for  carnal  lusts, 
pawn,  or  mortgage,  or  sell  what  they  have,  and 
themselves  outright  to  boot,  yet  they  that  have  faith, 
saving  faith,  though  but  a  little  of  it,  cannot  do  so. 
Here,  therefore,  my  brother,  is  thy  mistake. 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  it ;  but  yet  your  severe  re- 
flection had  almost  made  me  angry. 

Chr.  Why,  I  did  but  compare  thee  to  some  of 
the  birds  that  are  of  the  brisker  sort,  who  will  run 
to  and  fro  in  untrodden  paths  with  the  shell  upon 
their  heads.  But  pass  by  that  and  consider  the 
matter  under  debate,  and  all  shall  be  well  betwixt 
thee  and  me. 

Hope.  But,  Christian,  these  three  fellows,  I  am 
persuaded  in  my  heart,  are  but  a  company  of  cow- 
ards :  would  they  have  run  else,  think  you,  as  they 
did,  at  the  noise  of  one  that  was  coming  on  the 
road?  Why  did  not  Little-faith  pluck  up  a  greater 
heart?     He  might,  methinks,  have  stood  one  brush 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  219 

with  them,  and   have  yielded   when  there  had  been 
no  remedy. 

Chr.  That  they  are  cowards  many  liave  said,  but 
few  have  found  it  so  in  the  time  of  trial.  As  for  a 
great  heart,  Little-faith  had  none  ;  and  I  perceive  by 
thee,  my  brother,  hadst  thou  been  the  man  con- 
cerned, thou  art  but  for  a  brusli  and  then  to  yield. 
And  verily,  since  this  is  the  height  of  thy  stomach 
now  they  are  at  a  distance  from  us,  should  they  ap- 
pear to  thee  as  they  did  to  him,  they  might  put  thee 
to  second  thoughts. 

But  consider  again,  they  are  but  journeymen 
thieves ;  they  serve  under  the  king  of  the  bottomless 
pit,  who,  if  need  be,  will  come  to  their  aid  himself, 
and  his  voice  is  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion.^  I  myself 
have  been  engaged  as  this  Little-faith  was ;  and  I 
found  it  a  terrible  thing.  These  three  villains  set 
upon  me,  and  I  beginning  like  a  Christian  to  resist, 
they  gave  but  a  call,  and  in  came  their  master:  I 
would,  as  the  saying  is,  have  given  my  life  for  a 
penny ;  but  that,  as  God  would  have  it,  I  was 
clothed  with  armour  of  proof.  Ay,  and  yet,  though 
I  was  so  harnessed,  I  found  it  hard  work  to  quit 
myself  like  a  man  :  no  man  can  tell  what  in  that 
combat  attend-  us,  but  he  that  hath  been  in  the  battle 
himself. 

>  I  Fet.  V.  8. 


220  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Hope.  Well,  but  they  ran,  you  see,  when  they 
did  but  suppose  that  one  Great-grace  was  in  the 
way. 

Chr.  True,  they  have  often  fled,  both  they  and 
their  master,  when  Great-grace  hath  but  appeared : 
and  no  marvel,  for  he  is  the  King's  champion  ;  but 
I  trow,  you  will  put  some  ditTerence  between  Little- 
faith  and  the  King's  champion.  All  the  King's  sub- 
jects are  not  his  champions  ;  nor  can  they,  when 
tried,  do  such  feats  of  war  as  he.  Is  it  meet  to 
think  that  a  little  child  should  handle  Goliath  as 
David  did  ;  or  that  there  should  be  the  strength  of 
an  ox  in  a  wren  .'*  Some  are  strong,  some  are  weak  ; 
some  have  great  faith,  some  have  little  ;  this  man 
was  one  of  the  weak,  and  therefore  he  went  to  the 
wall. 

Hope.  I  would  it  had  been  Great-grace  for  their 
sakes. 

Chr.  If  it  had  been  he,  he  might  have  had  his 
hands  full :  for  I  must  tell  you,  that  though  Great- 
grace  is  excellent  good  at  his  weapons,  and  has,  and 
can,  so  long  as  he  keeps  them  at  sword's  point,  do 
well  enough  with  them,  yet  if  they  get  within  him, 
even  Faint-heart,  Mistrust,  or  the  other,  it  shall  go 
hard  but  they  will  throw  up  his  heels  :  and  when  a 
man  is  down,  you  know,  what  can  he  do? 

Whoso  looks  well   u^^on   Great-grace's   face,  w''^' 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PRl  CRESS.  221 

see  those  scars  and  cuts  there,  that  shall  easily  give 
demonstration  of  what  I  say.  Yea,  once  I  heard 
tliat  he  should  say  (and  that  when  he  was  in  the 
combat),  "We  dcspaiied  even  of  life."  How  ditl 
these  sturdy  rogues  and  their  fellows  make  David 
groan,  mourn,  and  roar !  Yea,  Heman,  and  Hczc- 
kiah  too,  though  champions  in  their  days,  were 
forced  to  bestir  them  when  by  these  assaulted  ;  and 
yet,  notwithstanding,  they  had  their  coats  soundly 
brushed  by  them.  Peter,  upon  a  time,  would  go  try 
what  he  could  do  ;  but  though  some  do  say  of  him 
that  he  is  the  prince  of  the  apostles,  they  handled 
him  so,  that  they  made  him  at  last  afraid  of  a  sorry 
girl. 

Besides,  their  king  is  at  their  whistle  ;  he  is  never 
out  of  hearing  ;  and  if  at  any  time  they  be  put  to  the 
worst,  he,  if  possible,  comes  in  to  help  them  :  and 
of  him  it  is  said,  "  the  sword  of  him  that  layeth  at 
him  cannot  hold  ;  the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  ha- 
bergeon :  he  esteemcth  iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as 
rotten  wood  :  the  arrow  cannot  make  him  fly,  sling- 
stones  are  turned  with  him  into  stubble  ;  darts  are 
counted  as  stubble  :  he  laugheth  at  the  shaking  of  a 
spear." ^  What  can  a  man  do  in  this  case.'*  It  is 
true,  if  a  man  could  at  every  turn  have  Job's  horse, 
and  had  skill  and  courage  to  ride  him,  he  might  do 
1  Job  xli.  26-29. 


232  THE  PILGRIM'S  IROGRESS. 

notable  things  :  for  "  his  neck  is  clothed  with  thun 
der ;  he  will  not  be  afraid  as  a  grasshopper;  the 
glory  of  his  nostrils  is  terrible  ;  he  paweth  in  the 
valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  ;  he  goeth  on  to 
meet  the  armed  men  :  he  mocketh  at  fear,  and  is  not 
affrighted,  neither  turneth  he  back  from  the  sword  : 
the  quiver  rattleth  against  him,  the  glittering  spear 
and  the  shield :  he  swalloweth  the  ground  with 
fierceness  and  rage,  neither  believeth  he  that  it  is  the 
soimd  of  the  trumpet.  He  saith  among  the  trum- 
pets. Ha,  ha  !  and  he  smelleth  the  battle  afar  oft',  the 
thunder  of  the  captains,  and  the  shoutings."' 

But,  for  such  footmen  as  thou  and  I  are,  let  us 
never  desire  to  meet  with  an  enemy,  nor  vaunt  as  if 
we  could  do  better,  when  we  hear  of  others  that 
have  been  foiled  ;  nor  be  tickled  at  the  thoughts  of 
our  own  manhood,  for  such  commonly  come  by  the 
worst  when  tried.  Witness  Peter,  of  whom  I  made 
mention  before :  he  would  swagger,  ay,  he  would  ; 
he  would,  as  his  vain  mind  prompted  him  to  say, 
do  better  and  stand  more  for  his  Master  than  all 
men  :  but  who  so  foiled  and  run  down  by  those  vil- 
lains as  he  ? 

When,  therefore,  we  hear  that  such  robberies  are 
done  on  the  King's  highway,  two  things  become  us 
to  do :  First,  to  go  out  harnessed,  and  to  bf   sure  to 
1  Job  xxxix.  19-25. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  223 

take  a  shield  with  us  :  for  it  was  for  want  of  that, 
that  he  who  hiid  so  lustily  at  Leviathan  could  not 
make  him  yield  ;  for,  indeed,  if  that  be  wanting,  he 
fears  us  not  at  all.  Therefore  he  that  had  skill  hath 
said,  "Above  all,  take  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith 
ye  shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
wicked."^ 

It  is  good  also  that  we  desire  of  the  King  a  con- 
vov,  yea,  that  he  will  go  with  us  himself.  This 
made  David  rejoice  when  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death  ;  and  Moses  was  rather  for  dying 
where  he  stood,  than  to  go  one  step  without  his 
God."  O  my  brother,  if  he  will  but  go  along  with 
us,  wdiat  need  we  be  afraid  of  ten  thousand  that 
shall  set  themselves  against  us.^  But  without  him, 
the  proud  helpers  fall  under  the  slain.'' 

I,  for  my  part,  have  been  in  the  fray  before  now ; 
and  though,  through  the  goodness  of  Him  that  is 
best,  I  am,  as  you  see,  alive,  yet  I  cannot  boast  of 
my  manhood.  Glad  shall  I  be,  if  I  meet  with  no 
more  such  brunts  ;  though  I  fear  w^e  are  not  yet  be- 
yond all  danger.  However,  since  the  lion  and  the 
bear  have  not  as  yet  devoured  me,  I  hope  God  will 
also  deliver  us  from  the  next  uncircumcised  Philis- 
tine.    Then  sang  Christian — 

1  Eph.  vi.  16.  *  Ex.  xxxiii.  15. 

*  Ps.  iii.  6;  xxvii.  1-3  ;  Isa.  x.  4. 


224  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

"  Poor  Little-faith  !  hast  been  among  the  thieves  ? 
Wast  robbed  ?     Remember  this,  '  whoso  believes,' 
And  get  more  faith  ;  then  shall  you  victors  be 
Over  ten  thousand — else  scarce  over  three." 

So  they  went  on,  and  Ignorance  followed.  They 
went  then  till  they  came  at  a  place  where  they  saw 
a  way  put  itself  into  their  way,  and  seemed  withal 
to  lie  as  straight  as  the  way  which  they  should  go  ; 
and  here  they  knew  not  which  of  the  two  to  take, 
for  both  seemed  straight  before  them  :  therefore  here 
they  stood  still  to  consider.  And  as  they  were 
thinking  about  the  way,  behold  a  man  black  of  flesh, 
but  covered  with  a  very  light  robe,  came  to  them, 
and  asked  them  why  they  stood  there?  They  an- 
swered, they  were  going  to  the  Celestial  City,  but 
knew  not  which  of  these  ways  to  take.  "  Follow 
me,"  said  the  man,  "  it  is  thither  that  I  am  going." 
So  they  followed  him  in  the  way  that  but  now  came 
into  the  road,  which  by  degrees  turned,  and  turned 
them  so  far  from  the  city,  that  they  desired  to  go  to, 
that  in  a  little  time  their  faces  were  turned  away 
from  it :  yet  they  followed  him.  But  by  and  by,  be- 
fore they  were  aware,  he  led  them  both  within  the 
compass  of  a  net,  in  which  they  were  both  so  en- 
tangled that  they  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  and  with 
that  the  white  robe  fell  off  the  black  man's  back : 
then  they  saw  where  they  were.     Wherefore  there 


THE  PILGRIM'^   PROGRESS.  225 

t^iey  lay  crying  some  time,  for  they  could  not  get 
themselves  out. 

Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  Now  do  I  see 
myself  in  an  error.  Did  not  the  Shepherds  bid  us 
beware  of  the  Flatterer?  As  is  the  saying  of  the 
wije  man,  so  we  have  found  it  this  day,  "  A  man 
that  tJitteveth  his  neighbour,  spreadeth  a  net  for  his 
feet."* 

Hoi'A'.  They  also  gave  us  a  note  of  directions 
about  t\  xi  way,  for  our  rwoxe.  sure  finding  thereof; 
but  therri'v,  v^'e  have  also  f'jvgotten  to  read,  and  have 
not  kejjt  uarselves  from  the  "paths  of  the  de- 
stroyer." tLire  David  wa^  wiser  than  we  ;  for  saith 
he,  "  Concenvir^  the  works  of  men,  by  the  word  of 
thy  lips  I  h.^ve  kept  me  fr^jm  the  paths  of  the 
destroyer."  - 

Thus  they  la)  bewailing  themselves  in  the  net. 
At  last  they  esp.tO,  a  shining  one  coming  towards 
them  with  a  whip  ov  .^rnall  cords  in  his  hand.  When 
he  was  come  to  tlie  p!i.xc  where  they  were,  he  asked 
them  whence  they  came,  and  what  they  did  there  ? 
They  told  hiai,  that  they  were  poor  pilgrims  going 
to  Zion,  but  were  led  out  of  their  way  by  a  black 
man  clothed  in  wliite,  who  bid  us  said  thev,  follow 
him,  for  he  was  going  thither  too.  Then  said  he 
witl    the  whip.  It  is  Flatterer,  "  a  false  apostle,  that 

'  Prov.  xxix.  5.  2  ps  xvii.  4. 

15 


226  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

hath  transformed  himself  into  an  angel  of  lij^ht."^ 
So  he  rent  the  net,  and  let  the  men  out.  Then  said 
he  to  them,  Follow  me,  that  I  may  set  you  in  your 
way  again  :  so  he  led  them  back  to  the  way  which 
they  had  left  to  follow  the  Flatterer.  Then  he  asked 
them,  saying,  Where  did  you  lie  the  last  night? 
They  said.  With  the  Shepherds  upon  the  Delectable 
Mountains.  He  asked  them  then,  if  they  had  not 
of  the  Shepherds  a  note  of  direction  for  the  way  ? 
They  answered.  Yes.  But  did  you  not,  said  he, 
when  you  were  at  a  stand,  pluck  out  and  read  your 
note.''  They  answered.  No.  He  asked  them, 
W^hy?  They  said  they  forgot.  He  asked,  more- 
over, if  the  Shepherds  did  not  bid  them  beware  of 
the  Flatterer?  They  answered.  Yes  ;  but  we  did  not 
imagine,  said  they,  that  this  fine-spoken  man  had 
been  he.^ 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  commanded 
them  to  lie  down  ;  which  when  they  did,  he  chas- 
tised them  sore,  to  teach  them  the  good  way  wherein 
they  should  walk :'  and  as  he  chastised  them,  he 
said,  "  As  nany  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten  ;  be 
zealous,  therefore,  and  repent."*  This  done  he  bids 
them  go  on  their  way,  and  take  good  heed  to  the 
other  directions  of  the  Shepherds.     So  they  thanked 

1  2  Cor.  xi.  13-15  ;  Dan.  xi.  32.  2  Rom.  xvi,  17,  18. 

'  2  Chron.  vi.  27.  *  Rev.  iii.  19. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  227 

liim  for  all   his  kindness,  and   went  softly  along  the 
right  way,  singing — 

Come  hither,  you  that  walk  along  the  way, 
See  how  the  pilgrims  fare  that  go  astray ; 
They  catched  are  in  an  entangled  net, 
'Cause  they  good  counsel  lightly  did  forget : 
'Tis  true,  they  rescued  were ;  but  yet  you  see. 
They're  scourged  to  boot :  let  this  your  caution  be. 

Now,  after  a  while  they  perceived,  afar  oft",  one 
coming  softly,  and  alone,  all  along  the  highway,  to 
meet  them.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow, 
Yonder  is  a  man  with  his  back  towards  Zion,  and 
he  is  coming  to  meet  us. 

Hope.  I  see  him  ;  let  us  take  heed  to  ourselves 
now,  lest  he  should  prove  a  Flatterer  also.  So  he 
drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  came  up  to  them. 
His  name  was  Atheist;  and  he  asked  them  whither 
they  were  going. 

Chr.  We  are  going  to  Mount  Zion. 

Then  Atheist  fell  into  a  very  great  laughter. 

CiiR.  What  is  the  meaning  of  your  laughter.'' 

Ath.  I  laugh  to  see  what  ignorant  persons  you  are, 
to  take  upon  you  so  tedious  a  journey  ;  and  yet  are 
like  to  have  nothing  but  your  travail  for  your  pains. 

Chr.  Wl  y,  man,  do  }ou  think  we  shall  not  be 
received  ? 


228  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Ath.  Received  !  there  is  not  such  a  phice  as  you 
dream  of  in  all  thfs  world. 

Chr.  But  there  is  in  the  world  to  come. 

Ath.  When  I  was  at  home,  in  mine  own  country, 
I  heard  as  you  now  affirm,  and  from  that  hearing 
went  out  to  see,  and  have  been  seeking  this  city  these 
twenty  years,  but  find  no  more  of  it  than  I  did  the 
first  day  I  set  out.^ 

Chr.  We  have  both  heard,  and  believe  that  there 
is  such  a  place  to  be  found. 

Ath.  Had  not  I,  when  at  home,  believed,  I  had 
not  come  thus  far  to  seek  ;  but  finding  none  (and 
yet  I  should,  had  there  been  such  a  place  to  be 
found,  for  I  have  gone  to  seek  it  farther  than  you), 
I  am  going  back  again,  and  will  seek  to  refresh  my- 
self with  the  things  that  I  then  cast  away  for  hopes 
of  that  which  I  now  see  is  not.  ^ 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  his  companion.  Is 
it  true  which  this  man  hath  said.'' 

Hope.  Take  heed,  he  is  one  of  the  Flatterers:  re- 
member what  it  cost  us  once  already  for  our  heark- 
ening to  such  kind  of  fellows.  What!  no  Mount 
Zion.?  Did  we  not  see  from  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains the  gate  of  the  city.''  Also,  are  we  not  now  to 
walk  by  faith  .''^  Let  us  go  en,  lest  the  man  with  the 
w  lip  overtake  us  again.  "You  should  have  taught 
I  Ecdes.  X.  15  ;  Jer.  xvii.  15.  ^  2  Cor.  v  7. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  229 

me  that  lesson,  which  I  will  round  you  in  the  Mirs 
withal  :  "Cease,  my  son,  to  hear  the  instruction  that 
causeth  to  err  from  the  words  of  knowledge  ;" '  I 
say,  my  brother,  cease  to  hear  him,  and  let  us  be- 
lieve to  the  saving  of  the  soul. 

Chk.  My  brother,  I  did  not  put  the  question  to 
thee  for  that  I  doubted  of  the  truth  of  our  belief  my- 
self, but  to  prove  thee,  and  to  fetch  from  thee  a 
fruit  of  the  honesty  of  thy  heart.  As  for  this  man, 
I  know  that  he  is  blinded  by  the  god  of  this 
world.  Let  thee  and  me  go  on,  knowing  that  we 
have  belief  of  the  truth ;  and  "  no  lie  is  of  the 
truth." - 

Hope.  Now  do  I  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of 
God.  So  they  turned  away  from  the  man  ;  and  he, 
laughing  at  them,  went  his  way. 

I  then  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  ui:til 
they  came  into  a  certain  country  whose  air  naturally 
tended  to  make  one  drowsy,  if  he  came  a  stranger 
into  it.  And  here  Hopeful  began  to  be  very  dull 
and  heavy  to  sleep  :  wherefore  he  said  unto  Chris- 
tian, I  do  now  begin  to  grow  so  drowsy,  that  I  can 
scarcely  hold  open  mine  e3'es :  let  us  lie  down  here, 
and  take  one  nap.  By  no  means,  said  the  other ; 
lest,  sleeping,  we  never  wake  more. 

Hope.  Why,  my  brother?  sleep  is  sweet  to  fhe 
1  Prov  xix.  27 ;  Hcb.  x.  39.  ^  i  John  ii.  21. 


230  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

labouring  man  ;  we  may  be  refreshed,  if  we  take  a 
nap. 

Chr.  Do  you  not  remember,  that  one  of  the 
Shepherds  bid  us  beware  of  the  Enchanted  Ground? 
He  meant  by  that,  that  we  should  beware  of  sleep- 
ing ; — "  wherefore  let  us  not  sleep,  as  do  others  ;  but 
let  us  watch,  and  be  sober." ^ 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  faidt ;  and,  had 
I  been  here  alone,  I  had  by  sleeping  run  the  danger 
of  death.  I  see  it  is  true  that  the  wise  man  saith, 
"Two  are  better  than  one."^  Hitherto  hath  thy 
company  been  my  mercy ;  and  thou  shalt  have  a 
good  Inward  for  thy  labour. 

Ch:^.  .Now  then,  said  Christian,  to  prevent  drow- 
siness in  vMs  place,  let  us  fall  into  good  discourse. 

With  all  my  heart,  said  the  other. 

Chr.  Where  shall  we  begin.? 

Hope.  Where  God  began  with  us  :  but  do  you 
Sugin,  if  you  please. 

Chr.  I  will  sing  you  first  this  song — 

When  saints  do  sleepy  grow,  let  them  come  hither, 
And  hear  how  these  two  pilgrims  talk  together  : 
Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them  in  any  wise 
Thus  to  keep  ope  their  drowsy  slumbering  eyes. 
Saints'  fellowship,  it  it  be  managed  well, 
■^eeps  them  awnke,  and  that  in  spite  of  hell. 

I  Thess.  V.  6.  ^  Eccles.  iv.  9. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  231 

Then  Christian  began,  and  said,  I  will  ask  you  a 
question  :  How  came  you  to  think  at  first  of  doing 
what  }ou  do  now? 

Hope.  Do  you  mean,  how  I  came  at  first  to  look 
after  the  good  of  my  soul  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  my  meaning. 

Hope.  I  continued  a  great  while  in  the  delight  of 
those  things  which  were  seen  and  sold  at  our  fair  ; 
things  which  I  believe  now  would  have,  had  I  con- 
tinued in  them  still,  drowned  me  in  perdition  and 
destruction. 

Chr.  \Vhat  things  were  they.'' 

Hope.  All  the  treasures  and  riches  of  the  world. 
Also  I  delighted  much  in  rioting,  reveling,  drinking, 
swearing,  lying,  uncleanness.  Sabbath-breaking,  and 
what  not,  t^iat  tended  to  destroy  the  soul.  But  I 
found  at  last,  by  hearing  and  considering  of  things 
that  are  divine,  which  indeed  I  heard  of  you,  as  also 
of  beloved  Faithful,  that  was  put  to  death  for  his 
faith  and  good  living  in  Vanity  Fair,  that  "  the  end 
of  these  things  is  death  ;"  and  that  "  for  these  things' 
sake,  the  wrath  of  God  cometh  upon  the  children  of 
disobedience."' 

CiiR.  And  did  you  presently  fall  under  the  power 
of  this  conviction.'* 

Hoj'E.  No  ;  I  was  not  willing  presently  to  know 
*  Rom.  vi.  21-23  '>  Eph.  v.  6. 


232  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  evil  of  sin,  nor  the  damnation  that  follows  upon 
the  commission  of  it ;  but  endeavoui-ed,  when  my 
mind  at  first  began  to  be  shaken  with  the  word,  to 
shut  mine  eyes  against  the  light  thereof. 

Chr.  But  what  was  the  cause  of  your  carrying  of 
it  thus  to  the  first  workings  of  God's  blessed  Spirit 
upon  you  ? 

Hope.  The  causes  were — i.  I  was  ignorant  that 
this  was  the  work  of  God  upon  me.  I  never  thought 
that  by  awakenings  for  sin,  God  at  first  begins  the 
conversion  of  a  sinner.  2.  Sin  was  yet  very  sweet 
to  my  flesh,  and  I  was  loth  to  leave  it.  3.  I  could 
not  tell  how  to  part  with  mine  old  companions ; 
their  presence  and  actions  were  so  desirable  unto 
me.  4.  The  hours  in  which  convictions  were  upon 
me,  were  such  troublesome  and  such  heart-aflrighting 
hours,  that  I  could  not  bear,  no,  not  so  much  as  the 
remembrance  of  them  upon  my  heart. 

Chr.  Then,  as  it  seems,  sometimes  you  got  rid  of 
your  trouble? 

Hope.  Yes,  verily  ;  but  it  would  come  into  my 
mind  again,  and  then  I  should  be  as  bad,  nay,  worse 
than  I  was  before. 

Chr.  Why,  what  was  it  that  brought  your  sins  to 
mind  again  ? 

Hope.  Many  things  ;  as, 

I.   If  I  did  but  meet  a  good  man  ir  the  streets  ;  or, 


THE  PL.fiRIMS  PROGRESS.  2^3 

2.  If  I  have  heard  any  read  in  the  Bible  ;  or, 

3.  If  mine  head  did  begin  to  aehe  ;   or, 

4.  If  I  were  told  that  some  of  my  neighbours  wei  e 
sick  ;    or, 

5.  If  I  heard  the  bell  toll  for  some  tliat  were  dead  ; 
or, 

6.  If  I  thought  of  dying,  myself;  or, 

7.  If  I  heard  that  sudden  death  happened  to 
others ; 

S.  But  especially  when  I  thought  of  myself,  that  I 
must  quickly  come  to  judgment. 

Chr.  And  could  you  at  any  time,  with  ease,  get 
off  the  guilt  of  sin,  when  by  any  of  these  ways  it 
came  upon  you  ? 

Hope.  No,  not  I ;  for  then  they  got  faster  hold  of 
my  conscience:  and  then,  if  I  did  but  think  of  going 
back  to  sin  (though  my  mind  was  turned  against  it), 
it  would  be  double  torment  to  me. 

Chr.  And  how  did  you  do  then.? 

Hope.  I  thought  I  must  endeavour  to  mend  my 
life  ;  or  else,  thought  I,  I  am  sure  to  be  damned. 

CiiR.  And  did  you  endeavour  to  inend  ? 

Hope.  Yes  ;  and  fled  from  not  only  my  sins,  but 
sinful  company  too,  and  betook  me  to  religious 
duties,  as  praying,  reading,  weeping  for  sin,  speak- 
in<^  truth  to  mv  neighbours,  etc.  These  things  did 
I,  with  man}  others,  to  •  much  here  to  relate. 


234  I't^E:   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

Chr.   And  did  you  think  yourself  well  then? 

HoPK.  Yes,  for  a  while  ;  but  at  the  last  my  trou 
ble  came  tumbling  upon  me  again,  and  that  over  the 
neck  of  all  my  reformations. 

Chr.  How  came  that  about,  since  you  were  now 
reformed  ? 

Hope.  There  were  several  things  brought  it  upon 
me,  especially  such  sayings  as  these :  "  All  our 
righteousnesses  are  as  filthy  rags  ;" — "  By  the  works 
of  the  law  no  man  shall  be  justified  ;" — "  When  ye 
have  done  all  these  things,  say.  We  are  unprofit- 
able;'" with  many  more  such  like.  From  whence 
I  began  to  reason  with  myself  thus :  If  all  my  right- 
eousnesses are  as  filthy  rags  ;  if  by  the  deeds  of  the 
law  no  man  can  be  justified  ;  and  if,  when  we  have 
done  all,  we  are  yet  unprofitable,  then  'tis  but  a  folly 
to  think  of  heaven  by  the  law.  I  further  thought 
thus :  If  a  man  runs  a  hundred  pounds  into  the 
shopkeeper's  debt,  and  after  that  shall  pay  for  all 
that  he  shall  fetch  ;  yet,  if  his  old  debt  stands  in 
the  book  uncrossed,  the  shopkeeper  may  sue  him 
for  it,  and  cast  him  into  prison  till  he  shall  pay  the 
debt. 

Chr.  Well,  and  how  did  you  apply  this  to 
yourself.? 

Hope.  Why,  I  thought  thus  with  myself:  I  have 
1  Isa    'xiv.  6;  Gal.  ii.  i6;  Luke  xv  i.  lo. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  235 

by  my  sins  run  a  great  way  into  God's  book,  and 
tliat  my  now  reforming  will  not  pay  off'  that  score  ; 
therefore  I  should  think  still,  under  all  my  present 
amendments,  But  how  shall  I  be  freed  from  that 
damnation  that  I  brought  myself  in  danger  of  by  my 
former  transgressions? 

CiiR.  A  very  good  application  :  but  pray  go  on. 

Hope.  Another  thing  that  hath  troubled  me  ever 
since  my  late  amendments,  is,  that  if  I  look  narrowly 
into  the  best  of  what  I  do  now,  I  still  see  sin,  new 
sin,  mixing  itself  with  the  best  of  that  I  do :  so  that 
now  I  am  forced  to  conclude,  that  notwithstanding 
my  former  fond  conceits  of  myself  and  duties,  I 
have  committed  sin  enough  in  one  day  to  send  me  to 
hell,  though  my  former  life  had  been  faultless. 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  do  then.? 

Hope.  Do  !  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do,  until  I 
broke  my  mind  to  Faithful ;  for  he  and  I  were  well 
acquainted :  and  he  told  me,  that  unless  I  could  ob- 
tain the  righteousness  of  a  man  that  never  had  sinned, 
neither  mine  own,  nor  all  the  righteousness  of  the 
world,  could  save  me. 

Chr.  And  did  you  think  he  spake  true? 

Hope.  Had  he  told  me  so  when  I  was  pleased 
and  satisfied  witli  mine  own  amendments,  I  had 
called  him  fool  for  his  pains  ;  but  now,  since  I  see 
mine  0  vn   infirmity,  and   the   sin  which  cleaves  to 


236  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

my  best  performance,  I  have  been  forced  to  be   |>f  his 
opinion. 

Chr.  But  did  you  think,  when  at  first  he  sug- 
gested it  to  you,  that  there  was  such  a  man  to  be 
found,  of  whom  it  might  justly  be  said,  that  he  never 
committed  sin  ? 

Hope.  I  must  confess  the  words  at  first  sounded 
strangely ;  but,  after  a  little  more  talk  and  company 
with  him,  I  had  full  conviction  about  it. 

CiiR.  And  did  you  ask  him  what  man  this  was, 
and  how  you  must  be  justified  by  him.?^ 

Hope.  Yes,  and  he  told  me  it  was  the  Lord  Jesus, 
that  dwelleth  on  the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High  : 
And  thus,  said  he,  you  must  be  justified  by  him, 
even  by  trusting  to  vv'hat  he  hath  done  by  himself  in 
the  days  of  his  flesh,  and  suffered  when  he  did  hang 
on  the  tree.  I  asked  him,  further,  how  that  man's 
righteousness  could  be  of  that  efficacy,  to  justify 
another  before  God  }  And  he  told  me,  He  was  the 
mighty  God,  and  did  what  he  did,  and  died  the  death 
also,  not  for  himself,  but  for  me,  to  whom  his  doings, 
and  the  worthiness  of  them,  should  be  imputed,  if  I 
believed  on  him. 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  do  then? 

Hope.   I  made  my  objections  against  my  believing, 
for  that  I  thought  he  was  not  willing  to  save  me. 
1  Rom.  iv. ;  Col.  i. ;  Heb.  x.  ;  2  Pet.  i. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  237 

Chr.  And  what  said  Faithful  to  you  then? 

Hope.  He  bid  me  go  to  him,  and  see.  Then  I 
said  it  was  presumption.  He  said,  No,  for  I  was 
invited  to  come.^  Then  he  gave  me  a  book  of  Jesus' 
inditing,  to  encourage  me  the  more  freely  to  come  : 
and  he  said,  concerning  that  book,  that  every  jot  and 
tittle  thereof  stood  firmer  than  heaven  and  earth. ^ 
Then  I  asked  him  what  I  must  do  when  I  came.? 
And  he  told  me,  I  must  entreat  upon  my  knees,' 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  the  Father  to  reveal 
him  to  me.  Then  I  asked  him  further,  how  I  must 
make  my  supplications  to  him.-*  And  he  said,  Go, 
and  thou  slialt  find  him  upon  a  mercy-seat,*  where 
he  sits  all  the  year  long,  to  give  pardon  and  forgive- 
ness to  them  that  come.  I  told  him,  that  I  knew  not 
what  to  say  when  I  came.  And  he  bid  me  say  to 
this  efiect — "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,"  and 
"  make  me  to  know  and  believe  in  Jesus  Christ ;  for 
I  see,  that  if  his  righteousness  had  not  been,  or  I 
have  not  faith  in  that  righteousness,  I  am  utterly  cast 
away.  Lord,  I  have  heard  that  thou  art  a  merciful 
God,  and  hast  ordained  that  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ 
should  be  the  Saviour  of  the  world  :  and,  moreover, 
that  thou  art  willing  to  bestow  him  upon  such  a  poor 

1  Matt  xi.  28.  2  Matt.  xxiv.  35. 

'  Ps.  xcv.  6 ;  Jer.  xxix.  12,  13  ;  Dan.  xi.  10. 
*  Ex.  XXV.  22  ;  Lev.  xv.  2  ;  Heb.  iv.  i6. 


238  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

sinner  as  I  am  (and  I  am  a  sinner  indeed)  Lord, 
take  therefore  tliis  opportunity,  and  magnify  thy 
grace  in  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  through  thy  Son 
Jesus  Christ.     Amen." 

Chr.  And  did  you  do  as  you  were  bidden.^ 

Hope.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over. 

Chr.  And  did  the  Father  reveal  the  Son  to  you  ? 

Hope.  Not  at  the  first,  nor  second,  nor  third,  nor 
fourth,  nor  fifth,  no,  nor  at  the  sixth  time  neither. 

Chr.  What  did  you  do  then .? 

Hope.  What !  why,  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do. 

Chr.  Had  you  not  thoughts  of  leaving  off 
jDraying ! 

Hope.  Yes,  and  a  hundred  times  twice  told. 

Chr.  And  what  was  the  reason  you  did  not.'* 

Hope.  I  believed  that  it  was  true  which  had  been 
told  me,  to  wit,  that  without  the  righteousness  of  this 
Christ,  all  the  world  could  not  save  me  :  and  there- 
fore, thought  I  with  myself.  If  I  leave  off,  I  die,  and 
I  can  but  die  at  the  throne  of  grace.  And  withal 
this  came  into  my  mind,  "  If  it  tarry,  wait  for  it, 
because  it  will  surely  come,  and  will  not  tarry."'  So 
I  continued  praying,  until  the  Father  showed  me  his 
Son. 

Chr.  And  how  was  he  revealed  unto  you  } 

HcPE  I  did  not  see  him  with  my  bodily  eyes,  but 
1  Hab.  ii.  3. 


TflE   PTLGRnrS  PROGRESS.  239 

with  the  eyes  of  mine  understanding;^  and  thus  it 
was.  One  day  I  was  very  sad,  I  think  sadder  than 
at  any  one  time  in  mv  life  ;  and  this  sadness  was 
through  a  fresh  sight  of  tlie  greatness  and  vileness 
of  my  sins.  And  as  I  was  then  looking  for  nothing 
but  hell,  and  the  everlasting  damnation  of  my  soul, 
suddenly,  as  I  thought,  I  saw  the  Lord  Jesus  look 
down  from  heaven  upon  me,  and  saying,  "  Believe 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved."* 
But  I  ]"eplicd.  Lord,  I  am  a  great,  a  very  great 
sinner:  and  he  answered,  "My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee."  Then  I  said,  But,  Lord,  what  is  believ- 
ing.'' And  then  I  saw  from  tliat  saying,  "  He  that 
Cometh  to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  be- 
lieveth  on  me  shall  never  thirst,"^  that  believing  and 
coming  was  all  one  ;  and  that  he  that  came,  that  is, 
ran  out  in  his  heart  and  affections  after  salvation  by 
Christ,  he  indeed  believed  in  Christ.  Then  the 
water  stood  in  mine  eyes,  and  I  asked  further,  But, 
Lord,  may  such  a  great  sinner  as  I  am  be  indeed  ac- 
cepted of  thee,  and  be  saved  by  thee  .'*  And  I  heard 
him  say,  "  And  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out."*  Then  I  said.  But  how,  Lord,  must 
I  consider  of  thee  in  my  coming  to  thee,  that  my 
faith   may  be  placed  ariglit  upon  thee.''      Then  he 

1  Eph.  i.  18,  19.  2  y\(;ts  xvi.  30,  31. 

3  John  vi.  35.  *  John  vi.  37. 


240  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

said,  "  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners :  he  is  the  end  of  the  hiw  for  righteousness  to 
every  one  that  believes :  he  died  for  our  sins,  and 
rose  again  for  our  justification  :  he  loved  us,  and 
washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood  :  he  is 
Mediator  betwixt  God  and  us :  he  ever  liveth  to 
make  intercession  for  us."^  From  all  whicli  I 
gathered  that  I  must  look  for  righteousness  in  his 
person,  and  for  satisfaction  for  my  sins  by  his  blood  ; 
that  what  he  did  in  obedience  to  his  Father's  law, 
and  in  submitting  to  the  penalty  thereof,  was  not  for 
himself,  but  for  him  that  will  accept  it  for  his  salva- 
tion, and  be  thankful.  And  now  was  my  heart  full 
of  joy,  mine  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  mine  affections 
running  over  with  love  to  the  name,  people,  and 
ways  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Chr.  This  was  a  revelation  of  Christ  to  your  soul 
indeed  :  but  tell  me  particularly  what  effect  this  had 
upon  your  spirit. 

Hope.  It  made  me  see  that  all  the  world,  notwith- 
standing all  the  righteousness  thereof,  is  in  a  state  of 
condemnation  :  it  made  me  see  that  God  the  Father, 
though  he  be  just,  can  justly  justify  the  coming  sin- 
ner :  it  made  me  greatly  ashamed  of  the  vileness  of 
my  former  life,  and  confounded  me  with  the  sense 
of  mine  own  ignorance  ;  for  there  never  came  a 
1  I  Tim.  i.  15  ;  Rom.  x.  4 ;  Heb.  vii.  24,  25. 


•     THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  241 

thought  into  mv  heart,  before  now,  that  showed  me 
so  the  beauty  of  Jesus  Christ :  it  made  me  love  a 
holy  life,  and  long  to  do  something  for  the  honour 
and  glory  of  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  yea,  I 
thought  that,  had  I  now  a  thousand  gallons  of  blood 
in  my  body,  I  could  spill  it  all  for  the  sake  of  the 
Lord  Jesus. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  Hopeful  looked 
back,  and  saw  Ignorance,  whom  they  had  left  be- 
hind, coming  after.  Look,  said  he  to  Christian,  how 
far  yonder  youngster  loitereth  behind. 

Chr.  Ay,  ay,  I  see  him:  he  careth  not  for  our 
company. 

Hope.  But  I  trow  it  would  not  have  hurt  him,  had 
lie  kept  pace  with  us  hitherto. 

Chr.  That  is  true  ;  but  I  warrant  you  he  thinketh 
otherwise. 

Hope.  That  I  tliink  he  doth  :  but,  however,  let  us 
tarry  for  him.      (So  they  did.) 

Then  Christian  said  to  him,  Come  away,  man  ; 
whv  do  you  stay  so  behind.^ 

Igxor.  I  take  my  pleasi  re  in  walking  alone; 
even  more  a  great  deal  than  in  company,  unless  I 
like  it  better. 

Then  said  Christian   to  Hopeful  (but  softly),  Did 
I  not  tell  you   he  cared  not  for  our  company.'     But, 
however,  said  he,  come  up,  and  let  us  talk  away  the 
16 


242  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

time  in  this  solitary  place.  Then,  directing  his 
speech  to  Ignorance,  he  said,  Come,  how  do  you 
do?  How  stands  it  between  God  and  your  soul 
now  ? 

Ignor.  I  hope  well,  for  I  am  always  full  of  good 
motions,  that  come  into  my  mind  to  comfort  me  as  I 
walk. 

Chr.  What  good  motions?  Pray  tell  us. 

Ignor.  Why,  I  think  of  God  and  heaven. 

Chr.  So  do  the  devils  and  damned  souls. 

Ignor.  But  I  think  of  them  and  desire  them. 

Chr.  So  do  many  that  are  never  like  to  coine 
there.  "  The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desireth  and  hath 
nothing."^ 

Ignor.  But  I  think  of  them,  and  leave  all  for 
them. 

Chr.  That  I  doubt ;  for  to  leave  all  is  a  very  hard 
matter :  yea,  a  harder  matter  than  many  are  aware 
of.  But  why,  or  for  what,  art  thou  persuaded  that 
thou  hast  left  all  for  God  and  heaven  ? 

Ignor.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  The  wise  man  says,  "  He  that  trusteth  in 
his  own  heart  is  a  fool."^ 

Ignor.  That  is  spoken  of  an  evil  heart ;  but  mine 
is  a  good  one. 

Chr.  But  how  dost  thou  prove  that? 

'  Prov.  xii'   4.  2  Prov.  xxviii.  26. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  243 

Ignok.   It  comforts  nic  in  hopes  of  heaven. 

Cur.  That  may  be  through  its  deceitfuhiess ;  foi 
a  man's  heart  may  minister  comfort  to  him  in  the 
hopes  of  that  thing,  for  which  he  has  yet  no  ground 
to  hope. 

Igxor.  But  my  heart  and  life  agree  together  ;  and 
tlierefore  my  hope  is  well  grounded. 

CiiR.  Who  told  thee  that  thy  heart  and  life  agre? 
together  } 

loNOR.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  "Ask  my  fellow  if  I  be  a  thief.''"  Thy 
heart  tells  thee  so  !  Except  the  word  of  God  bear- 
eth  witness  in  this  matter,  other  testimony  is  of  no 
value. 

Igxor.  But  is  it  not  a  good  heart  that  hath  good 
thoughts.''  and  is  not  that  a  good  life  that  is  accord- 
ing to  God's  commandments.'' 

Cur.  Yes,  that  is  a  good  heart  that  hath  good 
thoughts,  and  that  is  a  good  life  that  is  according 
to  God's  commandments ;  but  it  is  one  thing  in- 
deed to  have  these,  and  another  thing  only  to  tliink 
so. 

Igxor.  Pray,  what  count  you  good  thoughts,  and 
a  life  according  to  God's  commandments.'' 

Chr.  There  arc  good  thoughts  of  divers  kinds  ; — • 
some  respecting  ourselves,  some  God,  some  Christ, 
and  some  other  things. 


244  THE  1  ILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Igndr.  What  be  good  thoughts  respecting  our- 
selves ? 

Chr.   Such  as  agree  with  the  word  of  God. 

Ignor.  When  do  our  thoughts  of  ourselves  agree 
with  the  word  of  ^od  ? 

Chr.  When  we  pass  the  same  judgment  upon 
ourselves,  which  the  word  passes.  To  explain  my- 
self: the  word  of  God  saith  of  persons  in  a  natural 
condition,  "  There  is  none  righteous,  there  is  none 
that  doeth  good."  It  saith  also,  that  "every  imagin- 
ation of  the  heart  of  man  is  only  evil,  and  that  con- 
tinually."' And  again,  "The  imagination  of  mans 
heart  is  evil  from  his  youth."  Now  then,  when  we 
think  thus  of  ourselves,  having  sense  thereof,  then 
are  our  thoughts  good  ones,  because  according  to  the 
word  of  God. 

Ignor.  I  will  never  believe  that  my  heart  is  thus 
bad. 

Chr.  Therefore  thou  never  hadstone  good  thought 
concerning  thyself  in  thy  life.  But  let  me  go  on. 
As  the  word  passeth  a  judgment  upon  our  hearts,  so 
it  passeth  a  judgment  upon  our  wa3's  ;  and  when  the 
thoughts  of  our  hearts  and  ways  agree  WMth  the 
judgment  which  the  word  giv^eth  of  both,  then  are 
both  good,  because  agreeing  thereto. 

Ignor.  Make  out  your  meaning. 
'  Gen.  vi.  5. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PRDGRESS.  2^5 

CiiK.  Why,  the  word  of  God  saith,  that  man's 
ways  are  crooked  ways/  not  good,  but  perveise  :  it 
saith,  they  are  naturally  out  of  the  good  way,  that 
they  have  not  known  it."  Now,  when  a  man  thus 
thinkcth  of  his  ways,  I  say,  when  he  doth  sensibly, 
and  with  heart-humiliation,  thus  think,  then  hath 
he  good  thoughts  of  his  own  ways,  because  his 
thoughts  now  agree  with  the  judgment  of  the  word 
of  God. 

Ignor.  What  are  good  thoughts  concerning  God? 

Chr.  Even,  as  I  have  said  concerning  ourselves, 
when  our  thoughts  of  God  do  agree  with  what  the 
word  saith  of  him  ;  and  that  is,  when  we  think  of 
his  being  and  attributes  as  the  word  hath  taught ;  of 
which  I  cannot  now  discourse  at  large.  But  to  speak 
of  him  with  reference  to  us  :  then  have  we  right 
thoughts  of  God  when  we  think  that  he  knows  us 
better  than  we  know  ourselves,  and  can  see  sin  in  us 
when  and  where  we  can  see  none  in  ourselves : 
when  we  think  he  knows  our  inniost  thoughts,  and 
that  our  heart,  with  all  its  depths,  is  always  open 
unto  his  eyes  :  also  when  we  think  that  all  our  right- 
eousness stinks  in  his  nostrils,  and  that  therefore  he 
cannot  abide  to  see  us  stand  before  him  in  any  con- 
fidence, even  in  all  our  best  performances. 

Igxor.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  fool  as  to 
1  Ps.  cxxv.  5.  ^  Prov.  ii.  15 ;  Rom.  iii.  17. 


246  THE  PILGRINrS  PROGRESS. 

think  that  God  can  see  no  further  than  I?  or  that  I 
would  come  to  God  in  the  best  of  my  perform- 
ances? 

Chr.  Why,  how  dost  thou  think  in  this  matter? 

Igxor.  Why,  to  be  short,  I  think  I  must  believe 
m  Christ  for  justification. 

Chr.  How  !  think  thou  must  believe  in  Christ, 
when  thou  seest  not  thy  need  of  him  !  Thou  neither 
seest  thy  original  nor  actual  infirmities ;  but  hast 
such  an  opinion  of  thyself,  and  of  what  thou  dost, 
as  plainly  renders  thee  to  be  one  that  did  never  see 
the  necessity  of  Christ's  jDersonal  righteousness  to 
justify  thee  before  God.  How  then  dost  thou  say,  I 
believe  in  Christ? 

Ignor.  I  believe  well  enough  for  all  that. 

Chr.   How  dost  thou  believe? 

Ignor.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sinners  ;  and 
that  I  shall  be  justified  before  God  from  the  curse 
through  his  gracious  acceptance  of  my  obedience  to 
his  laws.  Or  thus,  Christ  makes  my  duties,  that  are 
religious,  acceptable  to  his  Father  bj-  virtue  of  his 
merits ;  and  so  shall  I  be  justified. 

Chr.  Let  me  give  an  answer  to  this  confession  of 
thy  faith : 

1.  Thou  believest  with  a  fantastical  faith  ;  for  this 
faith  is  nowhere  described  in  the  word. 

2.  Th  ^\i  believest  with  a  false  faith  ;  because  thou 


THE  PI  LG  HI  MS  PliOGRESS.  247 

takest  justification   tVoni    the   personal   righteousness 
of  Christ,  and  appliest  it  to  thy  own. 

3.  This  faith  maketh  not  Clirist  a  justifier  of  tiw 
person,  but  of  thy  actions  ;  and  of  thy  person  for  thy 
actions'  sake,  wliich  is  false. 

4.  Therefore  this  faith  is  deceitful,  even  such  as  will 
leave  thee  under  wrath  in  the  day  of  God  Almighty  : 
for  true  justifying  faith  puts  the  soul,  as  sensible  of 
its  lost  condition  bv  the  law,  upon  flying  for  refuge 
unto  Christ's  righteousness  (which  righteousness  of 
his  is  not  an  act  of  grace  by  which  he  maketh,  for 
justification,  thy  obedience  accepted  with  God,  but 
his  personal  obedience  to  the  law,  in  doing  and  suf- 
fering for  us  what  that  required  at  our  hands)  ;  this 
righteousness,  I  say,  true  faith  accepteth  ;  under  the 
skirt  of  which  the  soul  being  shrouded,  and  by  it 
presented  as  spotless  before  God,  it  is  accepted,  and 
acquitted  from  condemnation. 

Igxor.  What !  would  you  have  us  trust  to  what 
Christ  in  his  own  person  hath  done  without  us.'' 
This  conceit  would  loosen  the  reins  of  our  lusts,  and 
tolerate  us  to  live  as  we  list:  for  what  matter  how 
we  live,  if  we  may  be  justified  by  Christ's  personal 
righteousness  from  all,  when  we  believe  it.'' 

CiiR.  Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy  name  is, 
so  art  thou  :  even  this  thy  answer  demonstrateth 
what  I  say.     Ignorant  thou   art  of  what  justifying 


248  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

righteousness  is,  and  as  ignorant  how  to  secure  thy 
soul,  through  the  faith  of  it,  from  the  heavy  wrath 
of  God.  Yea,  thou  also  art  ignorant  of  the  true  ef- 
fects of  saving  faith  in  this  righteousness  of  Christ, 
which  is  to  bow  and  win  over  the  heart  to  God  in 
Christ,  to  love  his  name,  his  word,  ways,  and  peo- 
ple, and  not  as  thou  ignorantly  imaginest. 

Hope.  Ask  him  if  ever  he  had  Christ  revealed  to 
him  from  heaven. 

Ignor.  What !  you  are  a  man  for  revelations  !  I 
do  believe,  that  what  both  you  and  all  the  rest  of  you 
say  about  that  matter,  is  but  the  fruit  of  distracted 
brains. 

Hope.  Why,  man  !  Christ  is  so  hid  in  God  from 
the  natural  apprehensions  of  the  flesh,  that  he  can- 
not by  any  man  be  savingly  known,  unless  God  the 
Father  reveals  him  to  him. 

Ignor.  This  is  your  faith,  but  not  mine:  yet 
mine,  I  doubt  not,  is  as  good  as  yours,  though  I 
have  not  in  my  head  so  many  whimsies  as  you. 

Chr.  Give  me  leave  to  put  in  a  word.  Vou 
ought  not  so  slightly  to  speak  of  this  matter:  foi 
this  I  will  boldly  affirm,  even  as  my  good  com- 
panion hath  done,  that  no  man  can  know  Jesus 
Christ  but  by  the  revelation  of  the  Father ;  yea,  and 
faith  too,  by  which  the  soul  layeth  hold  upon  Christ 
(if  it  be  right),  must  be  wrought  by  the  exceeding 


THE  PILi,jn:.IS  PROGRESS.  249 

greatness  of  his  mighty  power ; '  the  \vor.;.ng  of 
which  faith,  I  perceive,  poor  Ignorance,  thou  art  ig- 
norant of.  Be  awakened  then,  see  thine  own  wretcii- 
edness,  and  fly  to  tlie  Lord  Jesus  ;  and  by  his  right- 
eousness, which  is  the  righteousness  of  God  (for  he 
himself  is  God),  thou  shalt  be  delivered  from  con- 
demnation. 

Igxor.  You  go  so  fast  I  cannot  keep  pace  with 
you  ;  do  you  go  on  before  ;  I  must  stay  a  while  be- 
hind.    Then  they  said  : 

Wei],  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  foolish  be 
To  slight  good  counsel,  ten  times  given  thee  ? 
And  if  thou  yet  refuse  it,  thou  shalt  know, 
Ere  long,  the  evil  of  thy  doing  so. 
Remember,  man,  in  time  ;  stop,  do  not  fear; 
Good  counsel  taken  well,  saves  ;  therefore  hear  : 
But  if  thou  yet  shalt  slight  it,  thou  wilt  be 
The  loser.  Ignorance,  I'll  warrant  thee. 

Then  Christian  addressed  himself  thus  to  his  fellow  : 
Chr.  Well,  come,  my  good   Hopeful,  I  perceive 

that  thou  and  I  must  walk  by  ourselves  ao-ain. 

So  I  saw  in   my  dream,  that  they  went  on   apace 

before,    and    Ignorance,    he    came    hobbling   after. 

Then  said  Christian   to  his  companion.  It  pities  me 

much  for  this  poor  man  :   it  will  certainly  go  ill  with 

him  at  last. 

'  Matt.  .\i.  27;  I  Cor.  .xii.  3  ;  E^  h.  i.  17-19. 


250  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Hope.  Alas  !  there  are  abundance  in  our  town  in 
this  condition,  whole  families,  yea,  whole  sti^eets, 
and  that  of  pilgrims  too  ;  and  if  there  be  so  many 
in  our  paints,  how  many,  think  you,  must  there  be  in 
the  place  where  he  was  born  ? 

Chr.  Indeed,  the  word  saith,  "  He  hath  blinded 
their  eyes,  lest  they  should  see,"  etc. 

But,  now  we  are  by  ourselves,  what  do  you  think 
of  such  men.f'  Have  they  at  no  time,  think  you, 
convictions  of  sin  ;  and  so,  consequently,  fears  that 
their  state  is  dangerous  ? 

Hope.  Nay,  do  you  answer  that  question  yourself, 
for  you  are  the  elder  man. 

Chr.  Then  I  say,  sometimes  (as  I  think)  they 
may,  but  they,  being  naturally  ignorant,  understand 
not  that  such  convictions  tend  to  their  good  ;  and 
therefore  they  do  desperately  seek  to  stifle  them,  and 
presumptuously  continue  to  flatter  themselves  in  the 
way  of  their  own  hearts. 

Hope.  I  do  believe,  as  you  say,  that  fear  tends 
much  to  men's  good,  and  to  make  them  right  at  their 
beginning  to  go  on  pilgrimage. 

Chr.  Without  all  doubt  it  doth,  if  it  be  right:  for 
so  says  the  word,  "  The  fear  of  the  Loi'd  is  the  be- 
ginning of  wisdom."^ 

Hope.  How  will  you  describe  right  feai .'' 
1  Jobxxviii.  28;  Ps.  cxi.  10;  Prov.  i.  7 ;  ix.  10. 


THE  PlLGlinrS  PROGRESS.  251 

CiiR.  True  or  right  fear  is  discovered  by  three 
things  : 

1.  By  its  rise:  it  is  caused  by  saving  convictions 
for  sin. 

2.  It  driveth  the  soul  to  lay  fast  hold  of  Christ  for 
salvation. 

3.  It  begettcth  and  continueth  in  the  soul  a  great 
reverence  of  God,  his  word,  and  vv'ays ;  keei^ing  it 
tender,  and  making  it  afraid  to  turn  from  them,  to 
the  right  hand  or  to  the  left,  to  any  thing  that  may 
dishonour  God,  break  its  peace,  grieve  the  Spirit,  or 
cause  the  enemy  to  speak  reproachfully. 

Hope.  Well  said  ;  I  believe  you  have  said  the 
truth.  Are  we  now  almost  got  past  the  Enchanted 
Ground  ? 

Chr.  Why.?  are  you  weary  of  this  discourse.' 
Hope.  No,  verily,  but  that  I  would   know  where 
we  are. 

Chr.  We  have  not  now  above  two  miles  further 
to  go  thereon.  But  let  us  return  to  our  matter  :  now, 
the  ignorant  know  not  that  such  convictions  as  tend 
to  put  them  in  fear,  are  for  their  good,  and  therefore 
they  seek  to  stifle  them  ? 

Hope.   How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them.' 
Chr.    I.  They  think  that  those  fears  are  wrought 
by  the  devil   (though   indeed  they  are  wrought  of 
God)  ;  and   thinking  so,  t  ley  resist  them,  as  things 


252  THE  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS. 

that  directly  tend  to  their  overthrow.  2.  They  also 
think  that  these  fears  tend  to  the  spoiling  of  theii 
faith  ;  when,  alas  for  them,  poor  men  that  they  are, 
they  have  none  at  all  !  and  therefore  they  harden 
their  hearts  against  them.  3.  They  jDresume  they 
onght  not  to  fear,  and  therefore,  in  despite  of  them, 
wax  presumptuously  confident.  4.  They  see  that 
those  fears  tend  to  take  away  from  them  their  pitiful 
old  self-holiness,  and  therefore  they  resist  them  with 
all  their  might. 

Hope.  I  know  something  of  this  myself;  for  be- 
fore I  knew  myself,  it  was  so  with  me. 

Chr.  Well,  we  will  leave,  at  this  time,  our  neigh- 
bour Ignorance  by  himself,  and  fall  upon  another 
profitable  question. 

Hope.  With  all  my  heart:  but  you  shall  still 
begin. 

Chr.  Well  then,  did  you  know,  about  ten  years 
ago,  one  Temporary  in  your  parts,  who  was  a  for- 
ward man  in  religion  then  ? 

Hope.  Know  him  !  yes  ;  he  dwelt  in  Graceless,  a 
town  about  two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  and  he  dwelt 
next  door  to  one  Turnback. 

Chr.  Right ;  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with 
him.  Well,  that  man  was  much  awakened  once  :  I 
believe  that  then  he  had  some  sight  of  his  sins,  and 
cf  the  wages  that  were  due  therf.co. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  253 

HoPK.  I  am  of  vour  mind,  for,  my  house  not  be- 
ing above  three  miles  from  him,  he  would  ofltimes 
come  to  me,  and  that  with  many  tears.  Truly  I 
pitied  the  man,  and  was  not  altogether  without  hope 
of  him:  but  one  may  see,  it  is  not  every  one  that 
cries,  "  Lord,  Lord." 

Chr.  He  told  me  once  that  he  was  resolved  to  go 
on  pilgrimage,  as  we  go  now  ;  but  all  of  a  sudden 
he  grew  acquainted  with  one  Save-self,  and  then  he 
became  a  stranger  to  me. 

Hope.  Now,  since  we  are  talking  about  him.  let 
us  a  little  inquire  into  the  reason  of  the  sudden  back- 
sliding of  him  and  such  others. 

Chr.  It  may  be  very  profitable ;  but  do  you 
begin. 

Hope.  Well,  then,  there  are  in  my  judgment  four 
reasons  for  it : 

I.  Though  the  consciences  of  such  men  are  awa- 
kened, yet  their  minds  are  not  changed  :  therefore, 
when  the  power  of  guilt  weareth  away,  that  which 
provoked  them  to  be  religious  ceasetli ;  wherefore 
they  naturally  turn  to  their  old  course  again  ;  even 
as  we  see  the  dog  that  is  sick  of  what  he  hath  eaten, 
so  long  as  his  sickness  prevails,  he  vomits  and  casts 
up  all ;  not  that  he  dotli  this  of  a  free  mind  (if  we 
may  say  a  dog  has  a  mind),  but  because  it  troubleth 
his  stomach.     But  now,  when   his  sickness  is  over. 


254  I'f^E  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

and  so  his  stomach  eased,  his  desires  being  not  at  all 
ahenated  from  his  vomit,  he  turns  him  about,  and 
licks  up  all ;  and  so  it  is  true  which  is  written,  "The 
dog  is  turned  to  his  own  vomit  again," ^  Tlius,  I 
say,  being  hot  for  heaven,  by  virtue  only  of  the  sense 
and  fear  of  the  torments  of  hell ;  as  their  sense  of 
hell,  and  fear  of  damnation,  chills  and  cools,  so  their 
desires  for  heaven  and  salvation  cool  also.  So  then 
it  comes  to  pass,  that  when  their  guilt  and  fear  are 
gone,  their  desires  for  heaven  and  happiness  die,  and 
they  return  to  their  course  again. 

2.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish  fears  that 
do  overmaster  them  :  I  speak  now  of  the  fears  that 
they  have  of  men  ;  "  for  the  fear  of  man  bringeth  a 
snare."  ^  So  then,  though  they  seem  to  be  hot  for 
heaven  so  long  as  the  flames  of  hell  are  about  their 
ears,  yet  when  that  terror  is  a  little  over,  they  betake 
themselves  to  second  thoughts,  namely,  that  it  is 
good  to  be  wise,  and  not  to  run  (for  they  know 
not  what)  the  hazard  of  losing  all,  or  at  least  of. 
bringing  themselves  into  unavoidable  and  unneces- 
sary troubles ;  and  so  they  fall  in  with  the  world 
again. 

3.  The  shame  that  attends  religion  lies  also  as  a 
block  in  their  way :  they  are  proud  and  haughty, 
and   religion  in   dieir  eye  is  low  and  contemptible  ; 

1  Pet.  ii   22.  2  Prov.  xxix.  25. 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  255 

therefore  when  tliey  liavc  lost  their  sense  of  hell  and 
the  wrath  to  come,  they  return  again  to  their  former 
course. 

4.  Guilt,  and  to  meditate  terror,  are  grievous  to 
them  :  they  like  not  to  see  their  misery  before  they 
come  into  it ;  though  perhaps  the  sight  of  it  at  first, 
if  tliey  loved  that  sight,  might  make  them  fly  whitlier 
the  righteous  fly,  and  are  safe  ;  but  because  they  do, 
as  I  hinted  before,  even  shun  the  thoughts  of  guilt 
and  terror,  therefore,  when  once  they  are  rid  of  their 
awakenings  about  the  terrors  and  wrath  of  God, 
they  harden  their  hearts  gladly,  and  choose  such 
ways  as  w^ill  harden  them  more  and  more. 

Chr.  You  are  pretty  near  the  business,  for  the 
bottom  of  all  is,  the  want  of  a  change  in  their  mind 
and  will.  And  theiefore  they  are  but  like  the  felon 
that  standeth  before  the  judge  ;  he  quakes  and  trem- 
bles, and  seems  to  repent  most  heartily :  but  the  bot- 
tom of  all  is,  the  fear  of  the  halter :  not  that  he  hath 
any  detestation  of  the  oflence,  as  it  is  evident ;  be- 
cause, let  but  this  man  have  his  liberty,  and  he  will 
be  a  thief,  and  so  a  rogue  still ;  whereas,  if  his  mind 
was  changed,  he  would  be  otherwise. 

Hope.  Now  I  have  showed  you  the  reason  of 
their  going  back,  do  you  show  me  the  rranner 
thereof. 

Chr.   So  I  will  willingly  : — 


256  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

1.  They  draw  off  their  thoughts,  all  that  they  may, 
from  the  remembrance  of  God,  death,  and  judgment 
to  come. 

2.  Then  they  cast  off  by  degrees  private  duties,  as 
closet  prayer,  curbing  their  lusts,  watching,  sorrow 
for  sin  and  the  like. 

3.  Then  they  shun  the  company  of  lively  and 
warm  Christians. 

4.  After  that  they  grow  cold  to  public  duty  ;  as 
hearing,  reading,  godly  conference,  and  the  like. 

5.  Then  they  begin  to  pick  holes,  as  we  say,  in 
the  coats  of  some  ot  the  godly,  and  that  devilishly, 
that  they  may  have  a  seeming  colour  to  throw  re- 
ligion (for  the  sake  of  some  infirmities  they  have  es- 
pied in  them)  behind  their  backs. 

6.  Then  they  begin  to  adhere  to,  and  associate 
themselves  with,  carnal,  loose,  and  wanton  men. 

7.  Then  they  give  way  to  ca-rnal  and  wanton  dis- 
courses in  secret ;  and  glad  are  they  if  they  can  see 
such  things  in  any  that  are  counted  honest,  that 
they  may  the  more  boldly  do  it  through  their  ex- 
ample. 

8.  After  this  they  begin  to  play  with  little  sins 
openly. 

9.  And  then,  being  hardened,  they  show  them- 
selves as  they  are.  Thus,  being  launched  again 
into  the  gulf  of  misery,   unless  a  miracle  of  grace 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  257 

jjrevent  it,  they  everlastingly  perish  in  their  own  dc- 
ceiVings. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time  the 
pilgrims  were  got  over  the  Enchanted  Ground  ;  and 
entering  into  the  country  of  Beulah,^  whose  air  was 
very  sweet  and  pleasant,  the  way  lying  directly 
through  it,  they  solaced  themselves  there  for  a  sea- 
son. Yea,  here  they  heard  continually  the  singing 
of  birds,  and  saw  every  day  the  flowers  appear  in 
the  earth,  and  heard  the  voice  of  the  turtle  in  the 
land.  In  this  country  the  sun  shineth  night  and 
day :  wherefore  this  was  beyond  the  Valley  of  tlie 
Shadow  of  Death,  and  also  out  of  the  reach  of 
Giant  Despair  ;  neither  could  they  from  this  place  so 
much  as  see  Doubting  Castle.  Here  they  were 
within  sight  of  the  city  they  were  going  to  :  also 
here  met  them  some  of  the  inhabitants  thereof;  for 
in  this  land  the  shining  ones  commonly  walked,  be- 
cause it  was  upon  the  borders  of  heaven.  In  this 
land  also  the  contract  between  the  Bride  and  the 
Bridegroom  was  renewed  :  yea,  here,  "  as  the  bride- 
groom rejoiceth  over  the  bride,  so  doth  their  God 
rejoice  over  them."  Here  they  had  no  want  of  corn 
and  wine  ;  for  in  this  place  they  met  with  abundance 
of  what  they  had  sought  for  in  all  their  pilgrimage. 
Here  they  heard  voices  from  out  of  the  city.  loud 

^  Isa.  Ixii.  4-12;  Song  ii,  10-12. 
17 


25S  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

voices,  saying,  "  Say  ye  to  the  daughter  of  Zion, 
Behold  thy  salvation  Cometh  !  Behold!  his  uward 
is  with  him  !"  Here  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
country  called  them,  "the  holy  people,  the  redeemed 
of  the  Lord,  sought  out,"  etc. 

Now,  as  they  walked  in  this  land,  they  had  more 
rejoicing  than  in  parts  more  remote  from  the  king- 
dom to  which  they  were  bound  ;  and,  drawing  near 
to  the  city,  they  had  yet  a  more  perfect  view  thereof. 
It  was  builded  of  pearls  and  precious  stones,  also 
the  streets  thereof  were  paved  with  gold  ;  so  that, 
by  I'eason  of  the  natural  glory  of  the  city,  and  the 
reflection  of  the  sunbeams  upon  it.  Christian  with 
desire  fell  sick.  Hopeful  also  had  a  fit  or  two  of 
the  same  disease.  Wherefore  here  they  lay  by  it  a 
while,  crying  out  because  of  their  pangs,  "  If  you 
see  my  beloved,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick  of  love." 

But,  being  a  little  strengthened,  and  better  able  to 
bear  their  sickness,  they  walked  on  their  way,  and 
came  yet  nearer  and  nearer,  where  were  orchards, 
vineyards,  and  gardens,  and  their  gates  opened  into 
the  highway.  Now,  as  they  came  up  to  these 
places,  behold  the  gardener  stood  in  the  way ;  to 
whom  the  pilgrims  said.  Whose  goodly  vineyards 
and  gardens  are  these  ?  He  answered.  They  are  the 
King's,  and  are  planted  here  for  his  own  delight, 
and  also  for  the  solace  of  pilgrims.     So  the  gardener 


THE   PILGRIM'  i   PROGRESS.  259 

had  them  into  the  vineyards,  and  bid  tlicm  refresh 
themselves  with  the  dainties  ; '  he  also  showed  them 
there  the  King's  walks  and  arbours  where  he  de- 
lighted to  be :  and  here  they  tarried  and  slept. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  talked  more 
in  their  sleep  at  this  time  than  ever  they  did  in  all 
their  journey  ;  and,  being  in  a  muse  thereabout,  the 
gardener  said  even  to  me,  Wherefore  musest  thou 
at  the  matter?  it  is  the  nature  of  the  fruit  of  the 
grapes  of  these  vineyards,  "  to  go  down  so  sweetly 
as  to  cause  the  lips  of  them  that  are  asleep  to 
speak." 

So  I  saw  that  when  they  awoke,  they  addressed 
themselves  to  go  up  to  the  city.  But,  as  I  said,  the 
reflection  of  the  sun  upon  the  city  (for  the  city  was 
pure  gold^)  was  so  extremely  glorious,  that  they 
could  not  as  yet  with  open  face  behold  it,  but 
through  an  instrument  made  for  that  purpose.  So  I 
saw  that,  as  they  went  on,  there  met  them  two  men 
in  raiment  that  shone  like  gold,  also  their  faces  shone 
as  the  light. 

These  men  asked  the  pilgrims  whence  they  came  ; 
and  they  told  them.  They  also  asked  them  w'lere 
they  had  lodged,  what  difficulties  and  dangers,  v^hat 
comforts  and  pleasures,  they  had  met  with  in  the 
way  ;  and  they  told  them.  Then  said  the  men  that 
'  Deut.  xxiii.  24.  2  Rev.  xxi.  18;  2  Cor.  iii.  18. 


26o  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

met  them,  You  have  but  two  difficulties  more  to 
meet  with,  and  then  you  are  in  the  city. 

Christian  then  and  his  companion  asked  the  men 
to  go  along  with  them  :  so  they  told  them  that  they 
Tv^ould.  But,  said  they,  you  must  obtain  it  by  your 
own  foith.  So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went 
on  together  till  they  come  in  sight  of  the  gate. 

Now  I  further  saw,  that  betwixt  them  and  the 
gate  was  a  river  ;  but  there  was  no  bridge  to  go  over  : 
the  river  was  very  deep.  At  the  sight,  therefore,  of 
this  river  the  pilgrims  were  much  stunned  ;  but  the 
men  that  went  with  them  said.  You  must  go  through 
or  you  cannot  came  at  the  gate. 

The  pilgrims  then  began  to  inquire,  if  there  was 
no  other  way  to  the  gate.''  To  which  they  answered, 
Yes  ;  but  there  have  not  any,  save  two,  to  wit,  Enoch 
and  Elijah,  been  permitted  to  tread  that  path  since 
the  foundation  of  the  world,  nor  shall  until  the  last 
trumpet  shall  sound.  The  pilgrims  then,  especially 
Christian,  began  to  desjDond  in  their  minds,  and 
looked  this  way  and  that ;  but  no  way  could  be  found 
by  them,  by  which  they  might  escape  the  river. 
Then  they  asked  the  men  if  the  waters  were  all  of  a 
depth.?  They  said.  No;  yet  they  could  not  help 
them  in  that  case  ;  for,  said  they,  you  shall  find  it 
deeper  or  shallower,  as  you  believe  in  the  King  of 
the  place. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  26 1 

They  then  addressetl  themselves  to  the  water, 
and,  er.tering,  Christian  began  to  sink,  and,  crying 
out  to  his  good  friend  Hopeful,  he  said,  I  sink  in 
deep  waters  ;  the  billows  go  over  my  head  ;  all  his 
waves  go  over  me.     Selah. 

Then  said  the  other,  Be  of  good  cheer,  my 
brother ;  I  feel  the  bottom,  and  it  is  good.  Then 
said  Christian,  Ah,  my  friend,  the  sorrows  of  death 
have  compassed  me  about,  I  shall  not  see  the  land 
that  flows  with  milk  and  honey.  And  with  that  a 
great  darkness  and  horror  fell  upon  Christian,  so 
that  he  could  not  see  before  him.  Also  here  he  in  a 
great  measure  lost  his  senses,  so  that  he  could  neither 
remember  nor  orderly  talk  of  any  of  those  sweet  re- 
freshments that  he  had  met  with  in  the  way  of  his 
pilgrimage.  But  all  the  words  that  he  spoke  still 
tended  to  discover  that  he  had  horror  of  mind,  and 
heart-fears  that  he  should  die  in  that  river,  and  never 
obtain  entrance  in  at  the  gate.  Here  also,  as  tliey 
that  stood  by  perceived,  he  was  much  in  the  trouble- 
some thoughts  of  the  sins  that  he  had  committed, 
both  since  and  before  he  began  to  be  a  pilgrim.  It 
was  also  observed,  that  he  was  troubled  with  appa- 
ritions of  hobgoblins  and  evil  spirits ;  for  ever  and 
anon  he  would  intimate  so  much  by  words. 

Hopeful  ti  erefore  here  had  much  to  do  to  keep 
his  brother's  head  above  water ;  yea,  sometimes  he 


262  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

woull  be  quite  gone  down,  and  then,  ere  a  while, 
he  WDuld  rise  up  again  half  dead.  Hopeful  did  also 
endeavour  to  comfort  him,  saying.  Brother,  I  see  the 
gate,  and  men  standing  by  to  receive  us ;  but  Chris- 
tian would  answer,  'Tis  you,  'tis  you  they  wait  for ; 
for  you  have  been  hopeful  ever  since  I  knew  you. 
And  so  have  you,  said  he  to  Christian.  Ah,  brother 
(said  he),  surely  if  I  was  right,  he  would  now  arise 
to  help  me  ;  but  for  my  sins  he  hath  brought  me  into 
the  snare,  and  hath  left  me.  Then  said  Hopeful,  My 
brother,  you  have  quite  forgot  the  text,  where  it  is 
said  of  the  wicked,  "  There  are  no  bands  in  their 
death,  but  their  strength  is  firm  ;  they  are  not  trou 
bled  as  other  men,  neither  are  they  plagued  like  other 
men."  These  troubles  and  distresses  that  you  go 
through  in  these  waters,  are  no  sign  that  God  hath 
forsaken  you  ;  but  are  sent  to  try  you,  whether  you 
will  call  to  mind  that  which  heretofore  you  have  re- 
ceived of  his  goodness,  and  live  upon  him  in  your 
distresses. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  was  in  a 
muse  a  while.  To  whom  also  Hopeful  added  these 
words.  Be  of  good  cheer,  Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee 
whole.  And  with  that  Christian  brake  out  with  a 
loud  voice,  Oh,  I  see  him  again  !  and  he  tells  me, 
"  When  thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be 
with  thee  ;    and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  263 

overflow  tliee." '  Then  they  both  took  courage,  and 
the  enemy  was  after  that  as  still  as  a  stone,  until 
tliey  were  gone  over.  Christian  therefore  presently 
found  ground  to  stand  upon,  and  so  it  followed  that 
the  rest  of  the  river  was  but  shallow :  thus  they  got 
over. 

Now,  upon  the  bank  of  the  river,  on  the  other 
side,  they  saw  the  two  shining  men  again,  who  there 
waited  for  them.  W'lerefore  being  come  out  of  the 
river,  they  saluted  them,  saying,  We  are  ministering 
spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  for  those  that  shall  be 
heirs  of  salvation.  Thus  they  went  along  towards 
the  gate. 

Now,  you  must  note,  that  the  city  stood  upon  a 
mighty  hill :  but  the  pilgrims  went  up  that  hill  with 
ease,  because  they  had  these  two  men  to  lead  them 
up  by  the  arms :  they  had  likewise  left  their  mortal 
garments  behind  them  in  the  river  ;  for  though  they 
went  in  with  them,  they  came  out  without  them. 
They  therefore  went  up  here  with  much  agility  and 
speed,  though  the  foundation  upon  which  the  city 
was  framed  was  higher  than  the  clouds :  they  there- 
fore went  up  through  the  region  of  the  air,  sweetly 
talking  as  they  went,  being  comforted,  because  they 
safely  got  over  the  river,  and  had  such  glorious  com- 
panions to  attend  them. 

'  Isa.  xliii.  2. 


264  THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS. 

The  talk  that  they  had  with  the  shining  ones  was 
about  the  glory  of  the  place  ;  who  told  them,  that 
the  beauty  and  glory  of  it  was  inexpressible.  There, 
said  they,  is  "Mount  Zion,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem, 
the  innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect."^  You  are  going  now, 
said  they,  to  the  paradise  of  God,  wherein  you  shall 
see  the  tree  of  life,  and  eat  of  the  nevei'-fading  fruits 
thereof:  and  when  you  come  there,  you  shall  have 
white  robes  given  you,  and  your  walk  and  talk  shall 
be  every  day  with  the  King,  even  all  the  days  of 
eternity.^  There  you  shall  not  see  again  such  things 
as  you  saw  when  you  were  in  the  lower  region  upon 
the  earth  ;  to  wit,  sorrow,  sickness,  affliction,  and 
death;  "  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away."^ 
You  are  going  now  to  Abraham,  to  Isaac,  and 
Jacob,  and  to  the  prophets,  men  that  God  hath 
taken  away  from  the  evil  to  come,  and  that  are  now 
"  resting  upon  their  beds,  each  one  walking  in  his 
righteousness."  The  men  then  asked.  What  must 
we  do  in  the  holy  place.''  To  whom  it  was  an- 
swered. You  must  there  receive  the  comfort  of  all 
your  toil,  and  have  joy  for  all  your  sorrow  ;  you 
must  reap  what  you  have  sown,  even  the  fruit  of  all 
your  prayers,  and  tears,  and  sufferings  for  the  King 

1  Heb.  xii.  22-24.  ^  Rev.  ii.  7 ;  iii.  4,  5  ;  xxii,  5. 

*  Isa.  Ixv.  16,  17. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  265 

by  the  way.'     In   that  place  you  must  wear  crowns 
of  gold,  and  enjoy  the  perpetual  sight  and  vision  of 
the   Holy  One;  for  "there  you  shall  see  him  as  he 
is."*     There  also   you   shall   serve   him   continually 
with  praise,  with  shouting,  and  thanksgiving,  whom 
you  desired  to  serve  in  the  world,  though  with  much 
ditficulty,   because   of   the    infirmity   of   your   flesh. 
There  your  eyes  shall  be  delighted  with  seeing,  and 
your  ears  with   hearing   the   pleasant  voice   of   the 
Mighty  One.     There  you   shall  enjoy  your  friends 
again  that  are  gone  thither  before  you  ;  and  there 
you  shall  with  joy  receive  even  every  one  that  fol- 
lows into  the  holy  place  after  you.     There  also  you 
shall  be  clothed  with  glory  and  majesty,  and  put  into 
an  equipage  fit  to  ride  out  with  the  King  of  Glory. 
When  he  shall  come  with  sound  of  trumpet  in  the 
clouds,  as  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind,  you  shall 
come  with  him  ;  and    when  he  shall   sit  upon  the 
throne  of  judgment,  you  shall  sit  by  him  ;  yea,  and 
when  he  shall  pass  sentence  upon  all  the  workers 
of  iniquity,  let  them  be  angels  or  men,  you  also  shall 
have  a  voice  in  that  judgment,  because  they  were 
his  and  your  enemies.     Also,  when  he  shall  again 
return  to  the  city  you  shall  go  too,  with  sound  of 
trumpet,  and  be  ever  with  him.' 

1  Gal.  vi.  7,  8.  2  I  John  iii.  2. 

»  I  Thess.  iv.  13-17 ;  Judc  14,  15  ;  Dan.  vii.  9,  10 ;  i  Cor.  vi.  2,3. 


266  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now,  while  they  were  thus  drawing  towards  the 
gate,  behold  a  company  of  the  heavenly  host  came 
out  to  meet  them  :  to  whom  it  was  said  by  the  other 
two  shining  ones,  These  are  the  men  that  have  loved 
our  Lord,  when  they  were  in  the  world,  and  that 
have  left  all  for  his  holy  name  ;  and  he  hath  sent  us 
to  fetch  them,  and  we  have  brought  them  thus  far  on 
their  desired  journey,  that  they  may  go  in  and  look 
their  Redeemer  in  the  face  with  joy.  Then  the 
heavenly  host  gave  a  great  shout,  saying,  "  Blessed 
are  they  that  are  called  to  the  marriage-supper  of 
the  Lamb.'"  There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to 
meet  them  several  of  the  King's  trumpeters,  clothed 
in  white  and  shining  raiment,  who,  with  melodious 
noises  and  loud,  made  even  the  heavens  to  echo  with 
their  sound.  These  trumpeters  saluted  Christian 
and  his  fellow  with  ten  thousand  welcomes  from  the 
world  ;  and  this  they  did  with  shouting  and  sound 
of  trumpet. 

This  done  they  compassed  them  round  on  every 
side :  some  went  before,  some  behind,  and  some  on 
the  right  hand,  some  on  the  left  (as  it  were  to  guard 
them  through  the  upper  regions),  continually  sound- 
ing as  they  went,  with  melodious  noise,  in  notes  on 
high  ;  so  that  the  very  sight  was  to  them  that  could 
behold  it  as  if  heaven  itself  was  come  down  to  meet 
^  Rev,  xix.  9. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  267 

them.  Thus,  therefore,  they  walked  on  together ; 
and,  as  they  v^alked,  ever  and  anon  these  trumpeters, 
even  w^ith  joyful  sound,  would,  by  mixing  their 
music  with  looks  and  gestures,  still  signify  to  Chris- 
tian and  his  brother  how  welcome  they  were  into  their 
company,  and  with  what  gladness  they  came  to  meet 
them.  And  now  were  these  two  men,  as  it  were,  in 
heaven,  before  they  came  at  it,  being  swallowed  up 
with  the  sight  of  angels,  and  with  hearing  their 
melodious  notes.  Here  also  they  had  the  city  itself 
in  view ;  and  they  thought  they  heard  all  the  bells 
therein  to  ring,  to  welcome  them  thereto.  But, 
above  all,  the  warm  and  joyful  thoughts  that  they 
had  about  their  own  dwelling  there,  with  such  com- 
pany, and  that  for  ever  and  ever ;  oh !  by  what 
tongue  or  pen  can  their  glorious  joy  be  expressed.? 
Thus  they  came  up  to  the  gate. 

Now,  when  they  were  come  up  to  the  gate,  there 
was  written  over  it,  in  letters  of  gold, 

"  BLESSED  ARE  THEY  THAT  DO  HIS  COM- 
MANDMENTS, THAT  THEY  MAY  HAVE  RIGHT 
TO  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE,  AND  MAY  ENTER  IN 
THROUGH    THE    GATES    INTO    THE    CITY."' 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  shining  men  bid 
them  call  at  the  gate :    the  which  when  they  did, 
'  Rev.  xxii.  14. 


268  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

some  from  above  looked  over  the  gate,  to  wit,  Enoch, 
Moses,  and  Elijah,  etc.  ;  to  w^hom  it  was  said,  These 
pilgrims  are  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction,  for 
the  love  that  they  bear  to  the  King  of  this  place : 
and  then  the  pilgrims  gave  in  unto  them  each  man 
his  certificate,  which  they  had  received  in  the  begin- 
ning :  those,  therefore,  were  carried  in  unto  the 
King,  who,  when  he  had  read  them,  said.  Where  are 
the  men?  To  whom  it  was  answered,  They  are 
standing  without  the  gate.  The  King  then  com- 
manded to  open  the  gate,  "that  the  righteous  nation 
(said  he)  that  keepeth  the  truth  may  enter  in."' 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  two  men  went 
in  at  the  gate ;  and,  lo  !  as  they  entered,  they  were 
transfigured ;  and  they  had  raiment  put  on,  that 
shone  like  gold.  There  were  also  that  met  them 
with  harps  and  crowns,  and  gave  them  to  them ; 
the  harps  to  praise  withal,  and  the  crowns  in  token 
of  honour.  Then  I  heard  in  my  dream,  that  all 
the  bells  in  the  city  rang  again  for  joy,  and  that  it 
was  said  unto  them, 

"  ENTER   YE    INTO    THE   JOY    OF   YOUR    LORD." 

I  also  heard  the  men  themselves,  that  they  sang  with 
a  loud  voice,  saying, 

"blessing,    and     honour,    and     GLORY,   AND 

1  Isa.  xxvi.  3 


THE  PILGRIM-S  PROGRESS.  269 

POWER,  BE  UNTO  HIM  THAT  SITTETH  UPON 
THE  THRONE,  AND  UNTO  THE  LAMB,  FOR 
EVER    AND    EVER.'" 

Now,  just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the 
men,  I  looked  in  after  them,  and  behold  the  city 
shone  like  the  sun  ;  the  streets  also  were  paved  with 
gold  ;  and  in  them  walked  many  men  with  crowns 
on  their  heads,"  palms  in  their  hands,  and  golden 
harps,  to  sing  praises  withal. 

There  were  also  of  them  that  had  wings,  and  they 
answered  one  another  without  intermission,  saying, 
"Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord."  And  after  that 
they  shut  up  the  gates;  which  when  I  had  seen,  I 
wished  myself  among  them. 

Now,  while  I  was  gazing  upon  all  these  things,  I 
turned  my  head  to  look  back,  and  saw  Ignorance 
come  up  to  the  river-side :  but  he  soon  got  over,  and 
that  without  half  the  difficulty  which  the  other  two 
men  met  with.  For  it  happened  that  there  was  then 
in  that  place  one  Vain-hope,  a  ferry-man,  that  with 
his  boat  helped  him  over  :  so  he,  as  the  others  I  saw, 
did  ascend  the  hill,  to  come  up  to  the  gate  ;  only  he 
came  alone,  neither  did  any  man  meet  him  with  the 
least  encouragement.  When  he  was  come  up  to  the 
gate,  he  looked  up  to  the  writing  that  was  above, 
'  Rev.  V.  13. 


270  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  then  began  to  knock,  supposing  that  antrJlnce 
should  have  been  quickly  administered  to  him  :  bu*- 
he  was  asked  by  the  men  that  looked  over  the  top 
of  the  gate,  Whence  come  you  ?  and  what  would 
you  have?  He  answered,  I  have  eat  and  drank  in 
the  presence  of  the  King,  and  he  has  taught  in  our 
streets.  Then  they  asked  him  for  his  certificate,  that 
they  might  go  in  and  show  it  to  the  King:  so  he 
fumbled  in  his  bosom  for  one,  and  found  none. 
Then  said  they.  Have  you  none?  but  the  man  an- 
swered never  a  word.  So  they  told  the  King,  but 
he  would  not  come  down  to  see  him,  but  com- 
manded the  two  shining  ones,  that  conducted  Chris- 
tian and  Hopeful  to  the  city,  to  go  out,  and  take  Ig- 
norance, and  bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  have  him 
away.  Then  they  took  him  up,  and  carried  him 
through  the  air  to  the  door  that  I  saw  in  the  side  of 
the  hill,  and  put  him  in  there.  Then  I  saw  that 
there  was  a  way  to  hell,  even  from  the  gates  of 
heaven,  as  well  as  from  the  cit}-  of  Destruction.  So 
I  awoke,  and  behold,  it  w  ;  a  dream. 


CONCLUSION. 


'OW,  Reader,  I  have  told  my  Dream  to  thee, 

See  if  thou  canst  interpret  it  to  me, 
Sj  Or  to  thyself,  or  neighbour  :  but  take  heed 
Of  misinterpreting  ;  for  that,  instead 
Of  doing  good,  will  but  thyself  abuse; 
By  misinterpreting,  evil  ensues. 


Take  heed  also  that  th*'  .  be  not  extreme 
In  playing  with  the  outside  of  my  Dream  ; 
Nor  let  my  figure  or  similitude 
Put  thee  into  a  laughter  or  a  feud. 
Leave  this  for  boys  and  fools  ;  but  as  for  thee. 
Do  thou  the  substance  of  my  matter  see. 


Put  by  the  curtains,  look  within  my  veil, 
Turn  up  my  metaphors,  and  do  not  fail. 
There,  if  thou  seekest  them,  such  things  thou'lt  find 
As  will  be  helpful  to  an  honest  mind. 

271 


272 


CONCLUSION. 


What  of  my  dross  thou  findest  there,  be  bold 
To  throw  away,  but  yet  preserve  the  gold. 
What  if  my  gold  be  wrapped  up  in  ore  ? 
None  throws  away  the  apple  for  the  core  ; 
But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 
I  know  not  but  'twill  make  me  dream  again. 


THE 


PILGRIM'S   Progress. 


THIS  WORLD  TO  THAT  WHICH   IS   TO   COME. 


DELIVERED  UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A   DREAM. 


PART   ir. 

WHEREIN  IS  SET  FORTH  THE  MANNER  OF  THE  SETTING 
OUT  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN;  THEIR 
DANGEROUS  JOURNEY,  AND  SAFE  ARRIVAL  AT  THE 
DESIRED  COUNTRY. 


"I    HAVE   USED   SIMILITUDES." — HoS.  xii.   lO. 

18  273 


THE 

AUTHOR'S  WAY  OF  SENDING  FORTH 

ais 

SECOND    PART    OF  THE    PILGRIM. 


O  now,  my  little  Book,  to  every  place, 
Where  my  First  Pilgrim  has  but  shown  his  fac*- 
Call  at  their  door  :  if  any  say,  Who's  there  f 


Then  answer  thou,  Christiana  is  here. 

If  they  bid  thee  cone  in,  then  enter  thou, 

With  all  thy  boys  ;  and  then,  as  thou  know'st  how 

Tell  who  they  are,  also  from  whence  they  came ; 

Perhaps  they'll  know  them  by  their  looks,  or  name : 

But  if  they  should  not,  ask  them  yet  again, 

If  formerly  they  did  not  entertain 

One  Christian,  a  Pilgrim  ?     If  they  say, 

They  did,  and  were  delighted  in  his  way ; 

Then  let  them  know  that  these  related  were 

Unto  him  ;  yea,  his  wife  and  children  are. 

Tell  them,  that  they  have  left  their  house  and  home ; 
Are  turned  Pilgrims  ;   seek  a  World  to  come  ; 

275 


^7^  THE  AUTHOR'S  ACCOUNT 

That  they  have  met  with  hardships  in  the  way  ; 
That  they  do  meet  with  troubles  night  and  day  ; 
That  they  have  trod  on  serpents  ;   fought  with  dev.js  ; 
Have  also  overcome  a  many  evils. 
Yea,  tell  them  also  of  the  next  who  have, 
Of  love  to  Pilgrimage,  been  stout  and  brave 
Defenders  of  that  Way  ;  and  how  they  still 
Refuse  this  World  to  do  their  Father's  will. 

Go  tell  them  also  of  those  dainty  things 
That  Pilgrimage  unto  the  Pilgrim  brings. 
Let  them  acquainted  be,  too,  how  they  are 
Beloved  of  their  King,  under  his  care  ; 
What  goodly  mansions  he  for  them  provides  ; 
Though  they  meet  with  rough  winds  and  swelling  tides, 
How  brave  a  calm  they  will  enjoy  at  last, 
Who  to  their  Lord,  and  by  his  ways  hold  fast. 

Perhaps  with  heart  and  hand  they  will  embrace 
Thee,  as  they  did  my  firstling ;  and  will  grace 
Thee  and  thy  fellows  with  such  cheer  and  fare, 
As  show  well,  they  of  Pilgrims  lovers  are. 

OBJECTION  I. 
But  how,  if  they  will  not  believe  of  me 
That  I  am  truly  thine  ?  'cause  some  there  be 
That  counterfeit  the  Pilgrim  and  his  name, 
Seek,  by  disguise,  to  seem  the  very  same  ; 
And  by  that  means  have  wrought  themselves  into 
The  hands  and  houses  of  I  know  not  who. 

ANSWER. 

'Tis  true,  some  have,  of  late,  to  counterfeit 
My  Pilgrim,  to  their  own  my  title  set; 


OF   THE   SECOND  PART.  27* 

Yea,  others  half  my  name,  and  title  too, 
Have  stitched  to  their  books,  to  make  them  do. 
But  yet  they  by  their  features  do  declare 
Themselves  not  mine  to  be,  whose  e'er  they  are. 

If  such  thou  meetest  with,  then  thine  only  way, 
Before  them  all,  is  to  say  out  thy  say, 
In  thine  own  native  language,  which  no  man 
Now  useth,  nor  with  ease  dissemble  can. 

If,  after  all,  they  still  of  you  shall  doubt, 
Thinking  that  you,  like  gypsies,  go  about 
In  naughty-wise  the  country  to  defile  ; 
Or  that  you  seek  good  people  to  beguile 
With  things  unwarrantable  ;  send  for  me, 
And  I  will  testify  you  Pilgrims  be  ; 
Yea,  I  will  testify  that  only  you 
Afy  Pilgrims  are ;  and  that  alone  will  do. 

OBJECTION    JI. 

But  yet,  perhaps,  I  may  inquire  for  him, 
Of  those  who  wish  him  damned  life  and  limb. 
What  shall  I  do,  when  I  at  such  a  door 
For  Pilgrims  ask,  and  they  shall  rage  the  more  .' 

ANSWER. 

Fright  not  thyself,  my  Book,  for  such  bugbears 
Are  nothing  else  but  ground  for  groundless  fears. 
My  Pilgrim's  book  has  travelled  sea  and  land. 
Yet  could  I  never  come  to  understand 
That  it  was  slighted  or  turned  out  of  door, 
By  any  kingdom,  were  they  rich  or  poor. 


278  THE  AUTHOR'S  ACCOUNT 

In  France  and  Flanders,  where  men  kill  each  other, 
My  Pilgrim  is  esteemed  a  friend,  a  brother. 

In  Holland  too,  'tis  said,  as  I  am  told. 
My  Pilgrim  is,  wi.h  some,  worth  more  than  gold. 

Highlanders,  and  wild  Irish  can  agree. 
My  Pilgrim  should  familiar  with  them  be. 

'Tis  in  New  England  under  such  advance, 
Receives  there  so  much  loving  countenance, 
As  to  be  trimmed,  new  clothed,  and  decked  with  gems, 
That  it  might  show  its  features,  and  its  limbs. 
Yet  more  ;  so  comely  doth  my  Pilgrim  walk. 
That  of  him  thousands  daily  sing  and  talk. 

If  you  draw  nearer  home,  it  will  appear, 
My  Pilgrim  knows  no  ground  of  shame  or  fear ; 
City  and  country  will  him  entertain 
With  Welcome^  Pilgrim ;  yea,  they  can't  refrain 
From  smiling,  if  my  Pilgrim  be  but  by. 
Or  shows  his  head  in  any  company. 

Brave  gallants  do  my  Pilgrim  hug  and  love. 
Esteem  it  much,  yea,  value  it  above 
Things  of  a  greater  bulk  ;  yea,  with  delight 
Say,  my  lark's  leg  is  better  than  a  kite. 

Young  ladies,  and  young  gentlewomen  too, 
Do  no  small  kindness  to  my  Pilgrim  shovT : 
Their  cabinets,  their  bosoms,  and  their  hearts, 
My  Pilgrim  has  ;  'cause  he  to  them  imparts 
His  pretty  riddles  in  such  wholesome  strains. 
As  yield  them  profit  double  to  their  pains 
Of  reading ;  yea,  I  think  I  may  be  bold 
To  say  some  prize  him  far  above  their  gold. 

The  very  children  that  do  walk  the  street, 
If  they  do  but  ny  holy  Pilgrim  meet, 


OF   THE   SECOND  PART.  279 

Salute  him  will ;  will  wish  him  well,  and  say, 
He  is  the  only  stripling  of  the  day. 

They  that  have  never  seen  him,  yet  admire 
What  they  have  heard  of  him,  and  much  desire 
To  have  his  company,  and  hear  him  tell 
Those  Pilgrim  stories  which  he  knows  so  well. 

Yea,  some  that  did  not  love  him  at  the  first. 
But  call'd  him  fool  and  noddy,  say  they  must. 
Now  they  have  seen  and  heard  him,  him  commend. 
And  to  those  whom  they  love  they  do  him  send. 

Wherefore,  my  Second  Part,  thou  needst  not  be 
Afraid  to  show  thy  head :  none  can  hurt  thee, 
That  wish  but  well  to  him  that  went  before  : 
'Cause  thou  com'st  after  with  a  second  store 
Of  things  as  good,  as  rich,  as  profitable. 
For  young,  for  old,  for  staggering,  and  for  stable. 

OBJECTION    III. 

But  some  there  be  that  say,  He  laughs  too  loud ; 
And  some  do  say,  His  head  is  in  a  cloud. 
Some  say.  His  words  and  stories  are  so  dark. 
They  know  not  how,  by  them,  to  find  his  mark. 

ANSWER. 

One  may,  I  think,  say,  both  his  laughs  and  cries 
May  well  be  guessed  at  by  his  watery  eyes. 
Some  things  are  of  that  nature,  as  to  make 
One's  fancy  chuckle,  while  his  heart  doth  ache  : 
When  Jacob  saw  his  Rachel  with  the  sheep. 
He  did  at  the  same  time  both  kiss  and  weep. 

Whereas  some  say,  A  cloud  is  in  his  head ; 
That  doth  bu*  show  his  wisdom's  covered 


2Sd  the  author  s  account 

With  its  own  mantle.     And  to  stir  the  mind 
To  search  well  after  what  it  fain  would  find, 
Things  that  seem  to  be  hid  in  words  obscure 
Do  but  the  godly  mind  the  more  allure 
To  study  what  those  sayings  should  contain, 
That  speak  to  us  in  such  a  cloudy  strain. 
I  also  know  a  dark  similitude 
Will  on  the  curious  fancy  more  intrude. 
And  will  stick  faster  in  the  heart  and  head, 
Than  things  from  similes  not  borrowed. 

Wherefore,  my  Book,  let  no  discouragement 
Hinder  thy  travels.     Behold  !  thou  art  sent 
To  friends,  not  foes  ;  to  friends  that  will  give  place 
To  thee,  thy  Pilgrims,  and  thy  words  embrace. 

Besides,  what  my  First  Pilgrim  left  concealed, 
Thou,  my  brave  Second  Pilgrim,  hast  revealed  ; 
What  Christian  left  locked  up,  and  went  his  way, 
Sweet  Christiana  opens  with  her  key. 

OBJECTION   IV. 

But  some  love  not  the  method  of  your  first : 
Romance  they  count  it ;  throw't  away  as  dust. 
If  I  should  meet  with  such,  what  should  I  say  ? 
Must  I  slight  them  as  they  slight  me,  or  nay  ? 

ANSWER. 

My  Christiana,  if  with  such  thou  meet, 
By  all  means,  in  all  loving  wise  them  greet ; 
Render  them  not  reviling  for  revile  ; 
But,  if  they  frown,  I  pr'ythee  on  them  smile  ; 
Perhaps  'tis  nature,  or  some  ill  report, 
Has  made  them  thus  despise  ;   or  thus  retort. 


OF   THE   SECOND  PART.  2S1 

Some  love  no  fisli,  some  love  no  cheese,  and  some 
Love  not  their  friends,  nor  their  own  house  or  home  ; 
Some  start  at  pig,  slight  chicken,  love  not  fowl, 
More  than  they  love  a  cuckoo  or  an  owl. 
Leave  such,  my  Christiana,  to  their  choice, 
And  seek  those  who  to  find  thee  will  rejoice  : 
By  no  means  strive,  but,  in  most  humble  wise. 
Present  thee  to  them  in  thy  Pilgrim's  guise. 
Go  then,  my  little  Book,  and  show  to  all 
That  entertain,  and  bid  thee  welcome  shall, 
What  thou  shalt  keep  close  shut  up  from  the  rest ; 
And  wish  what  thou  shalt  show  them  may  be  blest 
To  them  for  good,  and  make  them  choose  to  be 
Pilgrims  better  by  far  than  thee  or  me. 

Go  then,  I  say,  tell  all  men  who  thou  art ; 
Say,  I  am  Christiana  ;  and  my  part 
Is  now,  with  my  four  sons,  to  tell  you  what 
It  is  for  men  to  take  a  Pilgrim's  lot. 

Go,  also,  tell  them  who  and  what  they  be 
That  now  do  go  on  Pilgrimage  with  thee  ; 
Say,  Here's  my  neighbour  Mercy  ;  she  is  one 
That  has  long  time  with  me  a  pilgrim  gone  ; 
Come,  see  her  in  her  virgin  face,  and  learn 
•Twixt  idle  ones  and  Pilgrims  to  discern. 
Yea,  let  young  damsels  learn  of  her  to  prize 
The  World  which  is  to  come,  in  any  wise. 
When  little  tripping  maidens  follow  God, 
And  leave  old  doting  sinners  to  his  rod, 
Tis  like  those  days  wherein  the  young  ones  cried, 
Hosanna  !  when  the  old  ones  did  deride. 

Next  tell  them  of  old  Honest,  whom  you  found, 
With  his  while  hairs  treading  the  Piljrrim's  "round 


282  THE  AUTHOR'S  ACCOUNT 

Yea,  tell  them  how  plain-hearted  this  man  was, 
How  after  his  good  Lord  he  bare  the  cross. 
Perhaps  with  some  gray  head  this  may  prevail 
With  Christ  to  fall  in  love,  and  sin  bewail. 

Tell  them  also,  how  Master  Fearing  went 
On  pilgrimage,  and  how  the  time  he  spent 
In  solitariness,  with  fears  and  cries  ; 
And  how,  at  last,  he  won  the  joyful  prize. 
He  was  a  good  man,  though  much  down  in  spirit ; 
He  is  a  good  man,  and  doth  life  inherit. 

Tell  them  of  Master  Feeble-mind  also, 
Who  not  before,  but  still  behind  would  go. 
Show  them  also,  how  he  had  hke  been  slain, 
And  how  one  Great-heart  did  his  life  regain. 
This  man  was  true  of  heart,  though  weak  in  grace ; 
One  might  true  godliness  read  in  his  face. 

Then  tell  them  of  Master  Ready-to-halt, 
A  man  with  crutches,  but  much  without  fault. 
Tell  them  how  Master  Feeble-mind  and  he 
Did  love,  and  in  opinion  much  agree. 
And  let  all  know,  though  weakness  was  their  chance. 
Yet  sometimes  one  could  sing,  the  other  dance. 

Forget  not  Master  Valiant-for-the-truth, 
That  man  of  courage,  though  a  very  youth  : 
Tell  every  one  his  spirit  was  so  stout. 
No  man  could  ever  make  him  face  about ; 
And  how  Great-heart  and  he  could  not  forbear. 
But  pull  down  Doubting  Castle,  slay  Despair  ! 

Overlook  not  Master  Despondency, 
Nor  Much-afraid  his  daughter,  though  they  lie 
Under  such  mantles,  as  may  make  them  look, 
With  some,  as  if  their  God  had  them  forsook. 


OF   THE   SECOND  PART.  2S3 

They  softly  went,  but  sure  ;  and,  at  the  end. 
Found  that  the  Lord  of  Pilgrims  was  their  friend. 

When  thou  hast  told  the  world  of  all  these  things, 
Then  turn  about,  my  Book,  and  touch  these  strings, 
Which,  if  but  touched,  will  such  music  make, 
They'll  make  a  cripple  dance,  a  giant  quake. 

Those  riddles  that  lie  couched  within  thy  breast, 
Freely  propound,  expound  ;  and  for  the  rest 
Of  thy  mysterious  lines,  let  them  remain 
For  those  whose  nimble  fancies  shall  them  gain. 

Now  may  this  little  book  a  blessing  be 
To  those  who  love  this  little  Book  and  me : 
And  may  its  buyer  have  no  cause  to  say, 
His  money  is  but  lost  or  thrown  away. 
Yea,  may  this  Second  Pilgrim  yield  that  fruit 
As  may  with  each  good  Pilgrim's  fancy  suit ; 
And  may  it  some  persuade,  that  go  astray, 
To  turn  their  feet  and  heart  to  the  right  way, 
Is  the  hearty  prayer  of 

The  Author, 

JOHN  BUNYAN. 


THE 


PILGRIM'S  Progress. 


PART    II. 


OME  time  since,  to  tell  you  my  dream  that  I 
had  of  Christian  the  pilgrim,  and  of  his 
dangerous  journey  towards  the  Celestial 
Country,  was  pleasant  to  me  and  profitable  to  you. 
I  told  you  then  also  what  I  saw  concerning  his  wife 
and  children,  and  how  unwilling  they  were  to  go 
with  him  on  pilgrimage ;  insomuch  that  he  was 
forced  to  go  on  his  progress  without  them  :  for  he 
durst  not  run  the  danger  of  that  destruction,  which 
he  feared  would  come  by  staying  with  them  in  the 
city  of  Destruction  :  wherefore,  as  I  then  showed 
you,  he  then  left  them  and  departed. 

Now,  it  hath  so  happened,  through  the  multiplicity 
of  business,  that  I  have  been   much  hindered  and 
284 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  2S5 

kept  back  from  m}-  wonted  travels  into  those  parts 
whence  he  went,  and  so  could  not,  till  now,  obtain 
an  opportunity  to  make  further  inquiry  after  whom 
he  left  behind,  that  I  might  give  you  an  account  of 
them.  But  having  had  some  concerns  that  way  of 
late,  I  went  down  again  thitherward.  Now,  havino- 
taken  up  my  lodging  in  a  wood,  about  a  mile  off  the 
place,  as  I  slept,  I  dreamed  again. 

And,  as  I  was  in  my  dream,  behold,  an  aged  gen- 
tleman came  by  where  I  lay  ;  and  because  he  was  to 
go  some  part  of  the  way  that  I  was  traveling,  me- 
thought  I  got  up  and  went  with  him.  So,  as  we 
walked,  and  as  travellers  usually  do,  I  was  as  if  we 
fell  into  a  discourse,  and  our  talk  happened  to  be 
about  Christian  and  his  travels;  for  thus  I  began 
with  the  old  man. 

Sir,  said  I,  what  town  is  that  there  below,  that 
Heth  on  the  left  hand  of  our  way? 

Then  said  Mr.  Sagacity  (for  that  was  his  name), 
It  is  the  city  of  Destruction,  a  populous  place,  but 
possessed  with  a  very  ill-conditioned  and  idle  sort 
of  people. 

I  thought  that  was  that  city,  quoth  I ;  I  went  once 
myself  through  that  town  ;  and  therefore  know  that 
this  report  you  give  of  it  is  true. 

Sag.  Too  true !  I  wish  I  could  speak  truth  in 
speaking  better  of  them  that  dwell  therein. 


2S6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Well,  sir,  quoth  I,  then  I  perceive  you  to  b>5  a 
well-meaning  man,  and  so  one  that  takes  pleasure 
to  hear  and  tell  of  that  which  is  good :  pray  did 
you  never  hear  what  happened  to  a  man  some  time 
ago,  of  this  town  (whose  name  was  Christian), 
that  went  on  a  pilgrimage  up  towards  the  higher 
regions  ? 

Sag.  Hear  of  him  !  Ay,  and  I  also  heard  of  the 
molestations,  troubles,  wars,  captivities,  cries,  groans, 
frights,  and  fears,  that  he  met  with  and  had  on  his 
journey.  Besides,  I  must  tell  you,  all  our  country 
rings  of  him  :  there  are  but  few  houses,  that  have 
heard  of  him  and  his  doings,  but  have  sought  after 
and  got  the  records  of  his  pilgrimage :  yea,  I  think 
I  may  say,  that  his  hazardous  journey  has  got  many 
well-wishers  to  his  ways ;  for,  though  when  he  was 
here  he  was  fool  in  every  man's  mouth,  yet  now  he 
is  gone  ho  is  highly  commended  of  all.  Fo''  it  is 
said  he  lives  bravely  where  he  is  :  yea,  many  of  them 
that  are  resolved  never  to  run  his  hazards,  yet  have 
their  mouths  water  at  his  gains. 

They  may,  quoth  I,  Will  think,  if  they  think  any 
thing  that  is  true,  thi^c  he  liveth  well  where  he  is  ; 
for  he  now  lives  at  and  in  the  Fountain  of  life,  and 
has  what  he  has  without  labour  and  sorrow,  for  there 
is  no  grief  mixed  therewith.  But  pray  what  t^ilk 
have  the  people  about  him? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  2S7 

Sag.  Talk  !  the  people  talk  strangely  about  him  : 
some  say,  that  he  now  walks  in  white  ;^  that  he  has 
a  chain  of  gold  about  his  neck  ;  that  he  has  a  crown 
of  gold,  beset  with  pearls,  upon  his  head.  Others 
say,  that  the  shining  ones,  that  sometimes  showed 
themselves  to  him  in  his  journey,  are  become  his 
companions,  and  that  he  is  as  familiar  with  them  in 
the  place  where  he  is,  as  here  one  neighbour  is  with 
another.^  Besides,  it  is  confidently  affirmed  con- 
cerning him,  that  the  King  of  the  place  where  he  is 
has  bestowed  upon  him  already  a  very  rich  and 
pleasant  dwelling  at  court,  and  that  he  every  day 
eateth  and  drinketh,  and  walketh  and  talketh,  with 
him,  and  receiveth  of  the  smiles  and  favours  of  him 
that  is  Judge  of  all  there.  Moreover,  it  is  expected 
of  some,  that  his  Prince,  the  Lord  of  that  country, 
will  shortly  come  into  these  parts,  and  will  know 
the  reason,  if  they  can  give  any,  why  his  neighbours 
set  so  little  by  him,  and  had  him  so  much  in  de- 
rision, when  they  perceived  that  he  would  be  a 
pilgrim.^ 

For  they  say,  that  now  he  is  so  in  the  affections 
of  his  Prince,  and  that  his  Sovereign  is  so  much  con- 
cerned with  the  indignities  that  were  cast  upon 
Christian,  when  he  became  a  pilgrim,  that  he  will 
look  upon  all  as  if  done  unto  himself:  and  no  mar- 
1  Rev.  iii.  4  ;  vi.  1 1.  2  Zech.  iii.  7.  ^  j,]je  j^^  ij_ 


288  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

vel,  for  it  was  for  the  love  that  he  had  to  his  Printe 
that  he  ventured  as  he  did.' 

I  dare  say,  quoth  I ;  I  am  glad  on't ;  I  am  glad 
for  the  poor  man's  sake,  for  that  now  he  has  rest 
from  his  labour,^  and  for  that  he  now  reapeth  the 
benefit  of  his  tears  with  joy ;  ^  and  for  that  he  has 
got  beyond  the  gunshot  of  his  enemies,  and  is  out 
of  the  reach  of  them  that  hate  him.  I  also  am  glad, 
for  that  a  rumour  of  these  things  is  noised  abroad  in 
this  country  ;  who  can  tell  but  that  it  may  work 
some  good  effect  on  some  that  are  left  behind.'*  But 
pray,  sir,  while  it  is  fresh  in  my  mind,  do  you  hear 
anything  of  his  wife  and  children  }  Poor  hearts  !  I 
wonder  in  my  mind  what  they  do. 

Sag.  Who.''  Christiana  and  her  sons.?  They  are 
like  to  do  as  well  as  Christian  did  himself;  for, 
though  they  all  played  the  fool  at  first,  and  would  by 
no  means  be  persuaded  b}^  either  the  tears  or  en- 
treaties of  Christian,  yet  second  thoughts  have 
wrought  wonderfully  with  them :  so  they  have 
packed  up,  and  are  also  gone  after  him. 

Better  and  better,  quoth  I :  but,  what !  wife  and 
children  and  all } 

Sag.  It  is  true  :   I  can  give  you  an  account  of  the 
matter,  for  I  was  upon  the  spot  at  the  instant,  and 
was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  whole  affair. 
1  Luke  X.  i6.  2  Rev.  xiv.  13.  '  Ps.  cxxvi.  5,  6. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  289 

Then  said  I,  A  man,  it  seems,  may  report  it  for  a 
truth. 

Sag.  You  need  not  fear  to  affirm  it ;  I  mean,  that 
tiiey  are  all  gone  on  pilgrimage,  both  the  good 
woman  and  her  four  boys.  And  being  we  arc,  as  I 
perceive,  going  some  considerable  way  together,  I 
will  give  you  an  account  of  the  whole  of  the  matter. 

Tliis  Christiana  (for  tliat  was  her  name  from  the 
day  that  she  with  her  children  betook  themselves  to 
a  pilgrim's  life),  after  her  husband  was  gone  over  the 
river,  and  she  could  hear  of  him  no  more,  her 
thoughts  began  to  work  in  her  mind.  First,  for  that 
she  had  lost  her  husband,  and  for  that  the  loving 
bond  of  that  relation  was  utterly  broken  betwixt 
them.  For  you  know,  said  he  to  me,  nature  can  do 
no  less  but  entertain  the  living  with  many  a  heavy 
cogitation,  in  the  remembrance  of  the  loss  of  loving 
relations.  This,  therefore,  of  her  husband  did  cost 
her  many  a  tear.  But  this  was  not  all ;  for  Chris- 
tiana did  also  begin  to  consider  with  herself,  whether 
her  unbecoming  behaviour  towards  her  husband  was 
not  one  cause  that  she  saw  him  no  more  ;  and  that 
in  such  sort  he  was  taken  away  from  her.  And 
upon  this  came  into  her  mind,  by  swarms,  all  her 
unkind,  unnatural,  and  ungodly  carriage,  to  her  dear 
friend  ;  which  also  clogged  her  conscience,  and  did 
load    hor   with    guilt.     She    was,    moreover,    much 

19 


290  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

broken  with  recalling  to  remembrance  the  restless 
groans,  brinish  tears,  and  self-bemoanings,  of  her 
liLisbund,  and  how  she  did  harden  her  heart  against 
all  his  entreaties,  and  loving  persnasions,  of  her  and 
her  sons,  to  go  with  him  ;  yea,  there  was  not  any 
thing  that  Christian  either  said  to  her,  or  did  before 
her,  all  the  while  that  his  burden  did  hang  on  his 
back,  but  it  returned  upon  her  like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, and  rent  the  caul  of  her  heart  in  sunder,  es- 
pecially that  bitter  outcry  of  his,  "What  shall  I  do 
to  be  saved?"  did  ring  in  her  ears  most  dolefully. 

Then  said  she  to  her  children,  Sons,  we  are  all 
undone.  I  have  sinned  away  your  fother,  and  he  is 
gone:  he  would  have  had  us  with  him,  but  I  would 
not  go  myself:  I  also  have  hindered  you  of  life. 
With  that  the  boys  fell  into  tears,  and  cried  out  to 
go  after  their  father.  Oh!  (said  Christiana)  that  it 
had  been  but  our  lot  to  go  with  him  !  then  had  it 
fared  well  with  us,  beyond  what  it  is  like  to  do  now. 
For,  though  I  formerly  foolishly  imagined,  concern- 
ing the  troubles  of  your  father,  that  they  proceeded 
of  a  foolish  fancy  that  he  had,  or  for  that  he  was 
overrun  with  melancholy  humours  ;  yet  now  it  will 
not  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  they  sprang  from  an- 
other cause ;  to  wit,  for  that  the  light  of  life  was 
given  him;'  b)  the  help  of  which,  as  I  perceive, 
•  John  viii.  12. 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  291 

he  has  escaped  the  snares  of  death.  Tlien  Hicy  all 
wept  again,  and  cried  out.  Oh  !  woe  worth  the  day  ! 

The  next  night  Christiana  had  a  dream  ;  and,  be- 
hold, she  saw  as  if  a  broad  parchment  was  opened 
before  her,  in  wliich  were  recorded  the  sum  of  hei 
ways  ;  and  the  crimes,  as  she  thouglit,  looked  very 
black  upon  her.  Then  she  cried  out  aloud  in  her 
sleep.  "  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me,  a  sinner!'"  and 
the  little  children  heard  her. 

After  this,  she  thought  she  saw  two  very  ill- 
favoured  ones  standing  by  her  bedside,  and  saying, 
What  shall  we  do  with  this  woman }  for  she  cries 
out  for  mercy,  waking  and  sleeping.  If  she  be  suf- 
fered to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall  lose  her  as  we 
have  lost  her  husband.  Wherefore  we  must,  by  one 
way  or  other,  seek  to  take  her  off  from  tlie  thoughts 
of  what  sliall  be  hereafter,  else  all  tlie  world  cannot 
help  but  she  will  become  a  pilgrim. 

Now  she  awoke  in  a  great  sweat,  also  a  trembling 
was  upon  her ;  but  after  a  while  she  fell  to  sleeping 
again.  And  then  she  thought  she  saw  Christian,  her 
husband,  in  a  place  of  bliss  among  many  immortals, 
with  a  harp  in  his  hand,  standing  and  playing  upon 
it  before  One  that  sat  on  a  throne,  with  a  rainbow 
about  his  head.  She  saw  also,  as  if  he  bowed  his 
head  w'th  his  face  to  the  paved  work  that  was  under 
'  Luke  xviii.  13. 


292  THE   F  LGRIM-S  PROGRESS. 

his  Prince's  feet,  saying,  I  heartily  thank  my  Lord 
and  King  for  bringing  me  into  this  phxce.  Then 
shouted  a  company  of  them  that  stood  round  about, 
and  harped  with  their  harps :  but  no  man  Hving 
could  tell  what  they  said,  but  Christian  and  his  com- 
panions. 

Next  morning,  when  she  was  up,  had  prayed  to 
God,  and  talked  with  her  children  a  while,  one 
knocked  hard  at  the  door  ;  to  whom  she  spake  out, 
saving.  If  thou  comest  in  God's  name,  come  in.  So 
he  said.  Amen  ;  and  opened  the  door,  and  saluted 
her  with.  Peace  be  to  this  house.  The  which  when 
he  had  done,  he  said,  Christiana,  knowest  thou 
wherefore  I  am  come  ?  Then  she  blushed  and 
trembled  ;  also  her  heart  began  to  wax  warm  with 
desires  to  know  from  whence  he  came,  and  what 
was  his  errand  to  her.  So  he  said  unto  her.  My 
name  is  Secret ;  I  dwell  with  those  that  are  on  high. 
It  is  talked  of  where  I  dwell,  as  if  thou  hadst  a  de- 
sire to  go  thither:  also  there  is  a  report  that  thou  art 
aware  of  the  evil  thou  hast  formerly  done  to  thy 
husband,  in  hardening  of  thy  heart  against  his  way, 
and  in  keeping  of  these  ba  es  in  their  ignorance. 
Christiana,  the  merciful  One  has  sent  me  to  tell  thee, 
that  he  is  a  God  ready  to  forgive,  and  that  he  taketh 
delight  to  multiply  the  pardon  of  offences.  He  also 
would  have  thee  to  know,  that  he  inviteth  thee  to 


THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS.  293 

come  into  his  presence,  to  his  tabic,  and  that  he  will 
feed  thee  with  the  fat  of  his  house,  and  with  the 
heritage  of  Jacob  thy  father. 

There  is  Christian,  thy  husband  that  was.  with 
legions  more,  his  companions,  ever  beholding  that 
face  that  doth  minister  life  to  the  beholders;  and 
they  will  all  be  glad  when  they  shall  hear  the  sound 
of  thy  feet  step  over  thy  Father's  threshold. 

Christiana  at  this  was  greatly  abashed  in  herself, 
and  bowed  her  head  to  the  ground.  This  visitor 
proceeded,  and  said,  Christiana,  here  is  also  a  letter 
for  thee,  which  I  have  brought  from  thy  husband's 
King.  So  she  took  it,  and  opened  it,  but  it  smelt 
after  the  manner  of  the  best  perfume;*  also  it  was 
written  in  letters  of  gold.  The  contents  of  the  letter 
were  these  :  That  the  King  would  have  her  to  do  as 
did  Christian  her  husband,  for  that  was  the  way  to 
come  to  his  city,  and  to  dwell  in  his  presence  with 
joy  for  ever.  At  this  the  good  woman  was  quite 
overcome  ;  so  she  cried  out  to  her  visitor.  Sir,  will 
you  carry  me  and  my  children  with  you,  that  we 
also  may  go  and  worship  the  King? 

Then  said  the  visitor,  Christiana,  the  biner  is  be- 
fore the  sweet.  Thou  must  through  troubles,  as  did 
he  that  went  before  thee,  enter  this  Celestial  City. 
Wherefore   I  advise  thee  to  do  as  did  Christian  thy 

1  Song  i.  3, 
23  • 


294  T'li^    PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

husband  ;  go  to  the  Wicket-gate  yonder  over  the 
plain,  for  that  stands  at  the  head  of  the  way  up 
which  thou  must  go,  and  I  wish  thee  all  good  speed. 
Also  I  advise  thee,  that  thou  put  this  letter  in  tliy 
bosom  ;  that  thou  read  therein  to  thyself,  and  to  thy 
children  until  you  have  got  it  by  root  of  heart ;  for 
it  is  one  of  the  songs  that  thou  must  sing  while  thou 
art  in  this  house  of  thy  pilgrimage  :^  also  this  thou 
must  deliver  in  at  the  further  gate. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  this  old  gentleman, 
as  he  told  me  the  story,  did  himself  seem  to  be 
greatly  affected  therewith.  He  moreover  proceeded, 
and  said.  So  Christiana  called  her  sons  together,  and 
began  thus  to  address  herself  unto  them  :  My  sons, 
I  have,  as  you  may  perceive,  been  of  late  under 
much  exercise  in  my  soul  about  the  death  of  your 
father;  not  for  that  I  doubt  at  all  of  his  happiness, 
for  I  am  satisfied  now  that  he  is  well.  I  have  also 
been  much  affected  with  the  thoughts  of  mine  own 
estate  and  yours,  which  I  verily  believe  is  by  nature 
miserable.  My  carriage  also  to  your  father  in  his 
distress  is  a  great  load  to  my  conscience,  for  I  hard- 
ened both  mine  own  heart  and  yours  against  him, 
and  refused  to  go  with  him  on  pilgrimage. 

The  thoughts  of  these  things  would  now  kill  me 
out'.'ght,  but  that  for  a  dream  which  I  had  last  niglit, 
^  Ps.  cxix.  54. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  295 

and  but  that  for  the  encountgement  this  stranger  has 
given  me  this  morning.  Come,  my  children,  let  ns 
pack  up,  and  he  gone  to  the  gate  that  leads  to  that 
Celestial  Country,  that  we  may  see  your  fatiier,  and 
be  with  him  and  his  companions  in  peace,  according 
to  the  laws  of  that  land. 

Then  did  her  children  burst  out  into  tears,  for  joy 
that  the  heart  of  their  mother  was  so  inclined.  So 
their  visitor  bid  them  farewell ;  and  they  began  to 
prepare  to  set  out  for  their  journey. 

But,  while  they  were  thus  about  to  be  gone,  two 
of  the  women,  that  were  Christiana's  neighbours, 
came  up  to  her  house,  and  knocked  at  her  door. 
To  whom  she  said  as  before,  If  you  come  in  God's 
name,  come  in.  At  this  the  women  were  stunned, 
for  this  kind  of  language  they  used  not  to  hear,  or  to 
perceive  to  drop  from  the  lips  of  Christiana.  Yet 
they  came  in :  but  behold,  they  found  the  good 
woman  preparing  to  be  gone  from  her  house. 

So  they  began,  and  said,  Neighbour,  pray  what  is 
your  meaning  by  this  } 

Christiana  answered  and  said  to  the  eldest  of 
them,  whose  name  was  Mrs.  Timorous,  I  am  pre- 
paring for  a  journey.  (This  Timorous  was  daugh- 
ter to  him  that  met  Christian  upon  the  hill  of  Diffi- 
culty, and  would  have  h  \d  him  go  back  for  fear  of 
the  11(7  ns.) 


296  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Tim.  For  what  journey,  I  pray  you? 

Chr.  Even  to  go  after  my  good  husband.  And 
with  that  she  fell  a  weeping. 

Tim.  I  hope  not  so,  good  neighbour ;  pray,  for 
your  poor  children's  sake,  do  not  so  unwomanly  cast 
away  yourself. 

Chr.  Nay,  my  children  shall  go  with  me  ;  not  one 
of  them  is  willing  to  stay  behind. 

Tim.  I  wonder  in  my  very  heart,  what  or  who  has 
brought  you  into  this  mind. 

Chr.  O  neighbour,  knew  you  but  as  much  as  I 
do,  I  doubt  not  but  that  you  would  go  along  with 
me. 

Tim.  Pr'ythee,  what  new  knowledge  hast  thou 
got,  that  so  worketh  off  thy  mind  from  thy  friends, 
and  that  tempteth  thee  to  go  nobody  knows  where  ? 

Then  Christiana  replied,  I  have  been  sorely  af- 
flicted since  my  husband's  departure  from  me  ;  but 
especially  since  he  went  over  the  river.  But  that 
which  troubleth  me  most,  is  my  churlish  carriage  to 
him,  when  he  was  under  distress.  Besides,  I  am 
now  as  he  was  then  ;  nothing  will  serve  me  but 
going  on  pilgrimage.  I  was  dreaming  last  night 
that  I  saw  him.  Oh  that  my  soul  was  with  him  ! 
He  dwelleth  in  the  presence  of  the  King  of  the 
cou.itry ;  he  sits  and  eats  with  him  at  his  table  ;  he 
is  become  a   companion  of  immortals ;    an  \  has  a 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  297 

house  now  given  him  to  dwell  in,  to  which  the  best 
palace  on  earth,  if  compared,  seems  to  me  but  as  a 
dunghill.'  The  Prince  of  the  place  has  also  sent  for 
me,  with  promise  of  entertainment,  if  I  shall  come 
to  him  :  his  messenger  was  here  even  now,  and  has 
brought  me  a  letter  which  invites  me  to  come.  And 
with  that  she  plucked  out  her  letter,  and  read  it,  and 
said  to  them,  What  now  will  you  say  to  this? 

Tim.  Oh,  the  madness  that  has  possessed  thee  and 
thy  husband,  to  run  yourselves  upon  such  difficul- 
ties !  You  have  heard,  I  am  sure,  what  your  hus- 
band did  meet  with,  even  in  a  manner  at  the  first 
step  that  he  took  on  his  way,  as  our  neighbour  Ob- 
stinate can  yet  testify,  for  he  went  along  with  him  ; 
yea,  and  Pliable  too,  until  they,  like  wise  men,  were 
afraid  to  go  any  further.  We  also  heard,  over  and 
above,  how  he  met  with  the  lions,  Apollyon,  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  and  many  other  things.  Nor  is 
the  danger  that  he  met  with  at  Vanity  Fair  to  be 
forgotten  by  thee.  For  if  he,  though  a  man,  was  so 
hard  put  to  it,  what  canst  thou,  being  but  a  poor 
woman,  do?  Consider  also,  that  these  four  sweet 
babes  are  thy  children,  thy  flesh,  and  th}-  bones. 
Wherefore,  though  thou  shouldest  be  so  rash  as  to 
cast  away  thyself;  yet  for  the  sake  of  the  fruit  of  thy 
body,  keep  thou  at  home. 

'  2  Cor.  V.  1-4. 


298  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

But  Christiana  said  unto  her,  Tempt  me  not,  my 
neighbour :  I  have  now  a  price  put  into  my  hand  to 
get  gain,  and  I  should  be  a  fool  of  the  greatest  size 
if  I  should  have  no  heart  to  strike  in  with  the  op- 
portunity. And  for  that  you  tell  me  of  all  these 
troubles  that  I  am  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way,  they 
are  so  far  from  being  to  me  a  discouragement,  that 
they  show  I  am  in  the  right.  "  The  bitter  must 
come  before  the  sweet,"  and  that  also  will  make  the 
sweet  the  sweeter.  Wherefore  since  you  came  not 
to  my  house  in  God's  name,  as  I  said,  I  pray  you  to 
be  gone,  and  not  to  disquiet  me  further. 

Then  Timorous  reviled  her,  and  said  to  her  fellow, 
Come,  neighbour  Mercy,  let  lis  leave  her  in  her  own 
hands,  since  she  scorns  our  counsel  and  company. 
But  Mercy  was  at  a  stand,  and  could  not  so  readily 
comply  with  her  neighbour  ;  and  that  for  a  twofold 
reason,  i.  Her  bowels  yearned  over  Christiana. 
So  she  said  within  herself.  If  my  neighbour  will 
needs  be  gone,  I  will  go  a  little  way  with  her  and 
help  her.  2.  Her  bowels  yearned  over  her  own 
soul ;  for  what  Christiana  had  said,  had  taken  some 
hold  upon  her  mind.  Wherefore  she  said  within 
herself  again,  I  will  yet  have  more  talk  with  this 
Christiana  ;  and,  if  I  find  truth  and  life  in  what  she 
shall   say,  myself  with   my  heart  shall  also  go  with 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  299 

her.  Whtrefoie  Mercy  began  thus  to  reply  to  her 
neighbour  Timorous. 

Mer.  Neighbour,  I  (Hd  indeed  come  with  you  to 
see  Christiana  this  morning;  and,  since  she  is,  as 
you  see,  a  taking  her  last  farewell  of  the  country,  I 
think  to  walk  this  sunshiny  morning  a  little  with 
her,  to  help  her  on  her  way.  But  she  told  her  not 
of  her  second  reason,  but  kept  it  to  herself. 

Tim.  Well,  I  see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  a  fooling 
too  ;  but  take  heed  in  time,  and  be  wise  :  while  we 
are  out  of  danger,  we  are  out ;  but,  when  we  are  in, 
we  are  in. 

So  Mrs.  Timorous  returned  to  her  house,  and 
Christiana  betook  herself  to  her  journey.  But, 
when  Timorous  was  got  home  to  her  house,  she 
sends  for  some  of  her  neighbours,  to  wit,  Mrs.  Bat's- 
eyes,  Mrs.  Inconsiderate,  Mrs.  Light-mind,  and  Mrs. 
Know-nothing.  So,  when  they  were  come  to  her 
house,  she  falls  to  telling  of  the  story  of  Christiana, 
and  of  her  intended  journey.  And  thus  she  began 
her  tale. 

Tim.  Neighbours,  having  but  little  to  do  this 
morning,  I  went  to  give  Christiana  a  visit;  and, 
when  I  came  at  the  door,  I  knocked,  as  you  know  it 
is  our  custom  :  and  she  answered.  If  you  come  in 
God's  name,  come  in.  So  in  I  went,  thinking  all 
was  well :  but,  when  I  came  in,  I  fiund  her  prepar- 


300  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ing  \  erself  to  depart  the  town,  she,  and  also  her 
children.  So  I  asked  her,  what  was  her  meaning 
by  that?  And  slie  told  me  in  short,  that  she  was 
now  of  a  mind  to  go  on  pilgrimage,  as  did  her  hus- 
band. She  told  me  also  of  a  dream  that  she  had, 
and  how  the  King  of  the  country  where  her  husband 
was,  had  sent  an  inviting  letter  to  come  thither. 

Then  said  Mrs.  Know-nothing,  And  what,  do  you 
think  she  will  go  ? 

Tim.  A}^,  go  she  will,  whatever  comes  on't ;  and 
methinks  I  know  it  by  this ;  for  that  which  was  my 
great  argument  to  persuade  her  to  stay  at  home  (to 
wit,  the  troubles  she  was  like  to  meet  with  in  the 
way),  is  one  great  argument  with  her  to  put  her 
forward  on  her  journey.  For  she  told  me  in  so 
many  words,  "  The  bitter  goes  before  the  sweet ; 
yea,  and  forasmuch  as  it  so  doth,  it  makes  the  sweet 
the  sweeter." 

Mrs.  Bat's-eyes.  O  this  blind  and  foolish 
woman  !  said  she,  and  will  she  not  take  warning  by 
her  husband's  afflictions.''  For  my  part,  I  see,  if  he 
were  here  again,  he  would  rest  himself  content  in  a 
whole  skin,  and  never  run  so  many  hazards  for 
nothing. 

Mrs.  Inconsiderate  also  replied,  saying.  Away  with 
such  fantastical  fools  from  the  town  :  a  good  riddance, 
for  my  p^rt,  I  say  '^f  her ;  should  she  stay  where  she 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  30I 

dwells,  and  retain  this  her  mind,  who  could  live 
quietly  by  her?  for  she  will  either  be  dumpish  or 
unneighbourly,  or  talk  of  such  matters  as  no  wise 
body  can  abide :  wherefore,  for  my  part,  I  shall 
never  be  sorry  for  her  departure  ;  let  her  go,  and  let 
better  come  in  her  room  :  it  was  never  a  good  world 
since  these  whimsical  fools  dwelt  in  it. 

Then  Mrs.  Light-mind  added  as  followeth  :  Come, 
put  this  kind  of  talk  away.  I  was  yesterday  at 
Aladam  Wanton's,  where  we  were  as  merry  as  the 
maids.  For  who  do  you  think  should  be  there,  but 
I  and  ]Mrs.  Love-the-flcsh,  and  three  or  four  more, 
widi  Mrs.  Lechery,  Mrs.  Filth,  and  some  others :  so 
there  we  had  music  and  dancing,  and  what  else  was 
meet  to  fill  up  the  pleasure.  And,  I  dare  say,  my 
lady  herself  is  an  admirable  well-bred  gentlewoman, 
and  Mr.  Lechery  is  a  pretty  fellow. 

By  this  time  Christiana  was  got  on  her  way,  and 
Mercy  went  along  with  her :  so  as  they  went,  her 
children  being  there  also,  Christiana  began  to  dis- 
course. And,  Mercy,  said  Christiana,  I  take  this  as 
an  unexpected  favour,  that  thou  shouldest  set  forth 
out  of  doors  with  me  to  accompany  me  a  little  in  the 
way. 

Then  said  young  Mercy  (for  she  was  but  young). 
If  I  thought  it  would  be  to  purpose  to  go  with  you 
I  would  never  go  near  the  town  anv  more. 


302  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGa^ESS. 

Well,  Mercy,  said  Christiana,  cast  in  thy  lot  with 
me.  I  well  know  what  will  be  the  end  of  our  pil- 
grimage :  My  husband  is  where  he  would  not  but  be 
for  all  the  gold  in  the  Spanish  mines.  Nor  shalt 
thou  be  rejected,  though  thou  goest  but  upon  my  in- 
vitation. The  King,  who  hath  sent  for  me  and  my 
children,  is  one  that  delighteth  in  mercy.  Besides, 
if  thou  wilt,  I  will  hire  thee,  and  thou  shalt  go  along 
with  me  as  my  servant.  Yet  we  will  have  all  things 
in  common  betwixt  thee  and  me  :  only  go  along  with 
me. 

Mer.  But  how  shall  I  be  ascertained  that  I  also 
shall  be  entertained.''  Had  I  this  hope  but  from  one 
that  can  tell,  I  would  make  no  stick  at  all,  but  would 
go,  being  helped  by  Him  that  can  help,  though  the 
way  was  never  so  tedious. 

Chr.  Well,  loving  Mercy,  I  will  tell  thee  what 
thou  shalt  do  :  go  with  me  to  the  Wicket-gate,  and 
there  I  will  further  inquire  for  thee  ;  and  if  there 
thou  shalt  not  meet  with  encouragement,  I  will  be 
content  that  thou  return  to  thy  place.  I  also  will 
pay  thee  for  the  kindness  which  thou  showest  to  me 
and  my  children,  in  the  accompanying  of  us  in  our 
way  as  thou  dost. 

Mer.  Then  will  I  go  thither,  and  will  take  what 
shall  follow  ;  and  the  Lord  grant  that  my  lot  raay 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  303 

there  fall,  even  as  the  King  of  heaven  shall  have  his 
heart  npon  me. 

Christiana  then  was  glad  at  heart;  not  only  that 
she  had  a  companion  ;  bnt  also  for  that  she  had  pre- 
vailed with  this  poor  maid  to  fall  in  love  with  her 
own  salvation.  So  they  went  on  together,  and 
Jklercy  began  to  weep.  Then  said  Christiana, 
Wherefore  weepeth  my  sister  so  ? 

Alas !  said  she,  who  can  but  lament,  that  shall 
but  rightly  consider  what  a  state  and  condition  my 
poor  relations  are  in,  that  yet  remain  in  our  sinful 
town.''  And  that  which  makes  my  grief  the  more 
heavy  is,  because  they  have  no  instruction,  nor  any 
to  tell  them  what  is  to  come. 

Chr.  Bowels  become  pilgrims :  and  thou  dost 
for  thy  friends,  as  my  good  Christian  did  for  me 
when  he  left  me ;  he  mourned  for  that  I  would  not 
heed  nor  regard  him  :  but  his  Lord  and  ours  did 
gather  up  his  tears,  and  put  them  into  his  bottle  ; 
and  now  both  I  and  thou,  and  these  my  sweet  babes, 
are  reaping  the  fruit  and  benefit  of  them.  I  hope, 
Mercy,  that  these  tears  of  thine  will  not  be  lost:  for 
the  Truth  hath  said,  that  "  they  that  sow  in  tears 
shall  reap  in  joy  ;"  and  "  he  that  goeth  forth  and 
weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come 
again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him."' 
'  Ps.  cxxvi.  5,  6. 


304  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Then  said  Mercy, 

Let  the  most  Blessed  be  my  guide, 

If 't  be  his  blessed  will, 
Unto  his  gate,  into  his  fold. 

Up  to  his  holy  hill  : 

And  let  Him  never  suffer  me 

To  swerve  or  turn  aside 
From  his  free  grace  and  holy  ways, 

Whate'er  shall  me  betide. 

And  let  Him  gather  them  of  mine. 

That  I  have  left  behind  : 
Lord,  make  them  pray  they  may  be  thine, 

With  all  their  heart  and  mind. 

Now  my  old  friend  proceeded,  and  said,  But, 
when  Christiana  came  to  the  Slough  of  Despond, 
she  began  to  be  at  a  stand  ;  For,  said  she,  this  is  the 
place  in  which  my  dear  husband  had  like  to  have 
been  smothered  with  mud.  She  perceived  also, 
that,  notwithstanding  the  command  of  the  King  to 
make  this  place  for  pilgrims  good,  yet  it  was  rather 
worse  than  formerly.  So  I  asked  if  that  was  true .'' 
Yes,  said  the  old  gentleman,  too  true  :  for  many 
there  be  that  pretend  to  be  the  King's  labourers,  and 
that  say  they  are  for  mending  the  King's  highways, 
and  that  bring  dirt  and  dung  instead  of  stones,  and 
so  mar,  instead  of  mending.  Here  Christiana, 
therefore,  and  her  boys,  did  make  a  stand  :  but,  said 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  305 

Mercy,  Come,  let  us  venture  ;  only  let  us  te  wary. 
Then  they  looked  well  to  their  steps,  and  made  a 
shift  to  get  staggeringly  over. 

Yet  Christiana  had  like  to  have  been  in,  and  that 
not  once  or  twice.  Now  they  had  no  sooner  got 
over,  but  they  thought  they  heard  words  that  said 
unto  them,  "  Blessed  is  she  that  bclieveth,  for  there 
shall  be  a  performance  of  what  has  been  told  her 
from  the  Lord."^ 

Then  they  went  on  again  ;  and  said  Mercy  to 
Christiana,  Had  I  as  good  ground  to  hojDe  for  a  lov- 
ing reception  at  the  W^icket-gate  as  you,  I  think  no 
Slough  of  Despond  could  discourage  me. 

Well,  said  tlie  other,  you  know  your  sore,  and  I 
know  mine ;  and,  good  friend,  we  shall  all  have 
enough  evil  before  we  come  to  our  journey's  end. 
For  can  it  be  imagined,  that  the  people  who  design 
to  attain  such  excellent  glories  as  we  do,  and  that  are 
so  envied  that  happiness  as  we  are,  but  that  we  shall 
meet  with  what  fears  and  snares,  with  what  troubles 
and  afflictions,  they  can  possibly  assault  us  with  that 
hate  us. 

And  now  Mr.  Sagacity  left  me  to  dream  out  my 
dream  by  myself.  Wherefore,  methought  I  saw 
Christiana,  and  Mercy,  and  the  boys,  go  all  of  them 
up  to  the  gate  :  to  which  when  they  were  come,  they 

'  Luke  i.  45. 
2U 


306  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

betook  themselves  to  a  short  debate  about  how  they 
must  manage  their  calHng  at  the  gate,  and  what 
should  be  said  unto  him  that  did  open  unto  them  ;  so 
it  was  concluded,  since  Christiana  was  the  eldest, 
that  she  should  knock  for  entrance,  and  that  she 
should  speak  to  him,  that  did  open,  for  the  rest.  So 
Christiana  began  to  knock,  and,  as  her  poor  husband 
did,  she  knocked  and  knocked  again.  But,  instead 
of  any  that  answered,  they  all  thought  that  thev 
heard  as  if  a  dog  came  barking  upon  them  ;  a  dog, 
and  a  great  one  too  :  and  this  made  the  women  and 
children  afraid.  Nor  durst  they  for  a  while  to  knock 
any  more,  for  fear  the  mastiff'  should  fly  upon  them. 
Now  therefore  they  were  greatly  tumbled  up  and 
down  in  their  minds,  and  knew  not  what  to  do  : 
knock  they  durst  not,  for  fear  of  the  dog ;  go  back 
they  durst  not,  for  fear  the  keeper  of  that  gate  should 
espy  them  as  they  so  went,  and  should  be  offended 
with  them  :  at  last  they  thought  of  knocking  again, 
and  knocked  more  vehemently  than  they  did  at  first. 
Then  said  the  keeper  of  the  gate,  Who  is  there? 
So  the  dog  left  off' to  bark,  and  he  opened  unto  them. 
Then  Christiana  made  low  obeisance,  and  said. 
Let  not  our  Lord  be  offended  with  his  handmaidens, 
for  that  we  have  knocked  at  his  princely  gate.  Then 
said  the  keeper.  Whence  come  ye.''  and  what  is  it 
that  you  would  have.'' 


The  Wicket  Gate. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  S^T 

Christiana  answered,  We  are  come  from  whence 
'Christian  did  come,  and  upon  the  same  errand  as 
he  ;  to  wit,  to  be,  if  it  shall  please  you,  graciously 
admitted,  by  this  gate,  into  the  way  that  leads  unto 
the  Celestial  City.  And  I  answer,  my  Lord,  in  the 
next  place,  that  I  am  Christiana,  once  the  wife  of 
Christian,  that  now  is  gotten  above. 

With  that  the  keeper  of  the  gate  did  marvel,  say- 
ing. What,  is  she  now  become  a  pilgrim,  that  but  a 
while  ago  abhorred  that  life?  Then  she  bowed  her 
head,  and  said,  Yea  ;  and  so  are  these  my  sweet 
babes  also. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  in,  and 
said  also,  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me  ;" 
and  with  that  he  shut  up  the  gate.  This  done,  he 
called  to  a  trumpeter  that  was  above,  over  the  gate, 
to  entertain  Christiana  with  shouting  and  sound  of 
trumpet,  for  joy.  So  he  obeyed,  and  sounded,  and 
filled  the  air  with  his  melodious  notes. 

Now  all  this  while  poor  Mercy  did  stand  without, 
trembling  and  crying,  for  fear  that  she  was  rejected. 
But  when  Christiana  had  got  admittance  for  herself 
and  her  boys,  then  she  began  to  make  intercession 
for  Mercy. 

And  she  said.  My  Lord,  I  have  a  companion  of 
mine  that  stands  yet  without,  that  is  come  hither 
upon  the  same  account  as  myself;  one  that  is  much 


3o8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

dejected  in  her  mind,  for  that  she  comes,  as  she 
thinks,  without  sending  for  ;  whereas  I  was  sent  for 
by  my  husband's  King  to  come. 

Now  Mercy  began  to  be  very  impatient,  and  each 
minute  was  as  long  to  her  as  an  hour ;  wherefore 
she  prevented  Christiana  from  a  fuller  interceding 
for  her,  by  knocking  at  the  gate  herself.  And  she 
knocked  then  so  loud,  that  she  made  Christiana  to 
start.  Then  said  the  keeper  of  the  gate,  Who  is 
there?     And  Christiana  said,  It  is  my  friend. 

So  he  opened  the  gate,  and  looked  out,  but  Mercy 
was  fallen  down  without  in  a  swoon,  for  she  fainted, 
and  was  afraid  that  no  gate  should  be  opened  to 
her. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said.  Damsel, 
1  bid  thee  arise. 

O  sir,  said  she,  I  am  faint ;  there  is  scarce  life  left 
in  me.  But  he  answered,  that  one  once  said,  "When 
my  soul  fainted  within  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord, 
and  my  prayer  came  unto  thee,  into  thy  holy  tem- 
ple."^ Fear  not,  but  stand  upon  thy  feet,  and  tell 
me  wherefore  thou  art  come. 

Mer.  I  am  come  for  that  unto  which  I  was  never 
invited,  as  my  friend  Christiana  was.  Hers  was 
from  the  King,  and  mine  was  but  from  her.  Where- 
fore I  fear  I  presume. 

1  Jonah  ii.  7. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  309 

Good.  Did  she  desire  thee  to  come  with  her  to 
this  phice? 

Mer.  Yes  ;  and,  as  my  Lord  sees,  I  am  come  : 
and  if  there  is  any  grace  and  forgiveness  of  sins  to 
spare,  I  beseech  that  thy  poor  handmaid  may  be  a 
partaker  thereof. 

Then  he  took  her  again  by  the  hand,  and  led  her 
gently  in,  and  said,  I  pray  for  all  them  that  believe 
on  me,  by  what  means  soever  they  come  unto  me. 
Then  said  he  to  those  that  stood  by.  Fetch  somethii^g, 
and  give  it  to  Mercy  to  smell  on,  thereby  to  stay  her 
faintings.  So  they  fetched  her  a  bundle  of  myrrh,^ 
and  a  while  after  she  was  revived. 

And  now  were  Christiana  and  her  boys,  and 
Mercy,  received  of  the  Lord  at  the  head  of  the  way, 
and  spoke  kindly  unto  by  him.  Then  said  they  vet 
further  unto  him.  We  are  sorry  for  our  sins,  and  beg 
of  our  Lord  his  pardon,  and  further  information 
what  we  must  do. 

I  grant  pardon,  said  he,  by  word  and  deed  :  l)y 
word,  in  the  promise  of  forgiveness ;  by  deed,  in  tiie 
way  I  obtained  it.  Take  the  first  from  my  lips  with 
a  kiss,  and  the  other  as  it  shall  be  revealed.^ 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  spake  many  good 
words  unto  them,  whereby  they  were  greatly  glad- 
ded. He  also  had  them  up  to  the  top  of  the  gate, 
1  S.->ng  i.  13.  2  John  xx.  19. 


310  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  showed  them  by  what  deed  they  were  saved  ; 
and  told  them  withal,  that  that  sight  they  would 
have  again  as  Ihey  went  along  in  the  way,  to  their 
comfort. 

So  he  left  them  a  while  in  a  summer  parlour  be- 
low, where  they  entered  into  talk  by  themselves  ;  and 
thus  Christiana  began  :  Oh  how  glad  am  I  that  we 
are  got  in  hither  ! 

Mer.  So  you  well  may :  but  I  of  all  have  cause 
to  leap  for  joy. 

Chr.  I  thought  one  time,  as  I  stood  at  the  gate 
(because  I  had  knocked,  and  none  did  answer),  that 
all  our  labour  had  been  lost,  especially  when  that 
ugly  cur  made  such  a  heavy  barking  against  us. 

Mer.  But  my  worst  fear  was,  after  I  saw  that  you 
were  taken  into  his  favour,  and  that  I  was  left  be- 
hind. Now,  thought  I,  it  is  fulfilled  which  is  writ- 
ten, "  Two  women  shall  be  grinding  together ;  the 
one  shall  be  taken,  and  the  other  left."'  I  had  much 
ado  to  forbear  cr\-ing  out.  Undone  !  And  afraid  I  was 
to  knock  any  more  :  but,  when  I  looked  up  to  what 
was  written  over  the  gate,  I  took  courage.  I  also 
thought,  that  I  must  either  knock  again  or  die :  so  I 
knocked,  but  I  cannot  tell  how  ;  for  my  spirit  now 
struggled  be':vveen  life  and  death. 

Chr.  Ca  you  not  tell  how  you  knocked .''  I  am 
1  Matt.  xxiv.  41. 


THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS.  3H 

sui'c  your  knocks  were  so  earnest,  that  the  very  sound 
of  them  made  me  start.  I  thought  I  never  heard 
such  knocking  in  all  my  life  ;  I  thought  you  would 
have  come  in  jy  a  violent  hand,  or  have  taken  the 
kingdom  by  storm. ^ 

Mer.  Alas  !  to  be  in  my  case,  who  that  so  was 
coidd  but  have  done  so?  You  saw  that  the  door 
was  shut  upon  me,  and  that  there  was  a  most  cruel 
dog  thereabout.  Who,  I  say,  that  was  so  faint- 
hearted as  I,  would  not  have  knocked  with  all  their 
might?  But  pray,  what  said  my  Lord  to  my  rude- 
ness?    Was  he  not  angry  with  me? 

Chr.  When  he  heard  your  lumbering  noise,  he 
gave  a  wonderful  iimocent  smile  :  I  believe  what  you 
did  pleased  him  well,  for  he  showed  no  sign  to  the 
contrary.  But  I  marvel  in  my  heart  why  he  keeps 
such  a  dog :  had  I  known  that  afore,  I  should  not 
have  had  heart  enough  to  have  ventured  myself  in 
this  manner.  But  now  we  are  in,  we  are  in,  and  I 
am  glad  with  all  my  heart. 

Mer.  I  will  ask,  if  you  please,  next  time  he  comes 
down,  why  he  keeps  such  a  filthy  cur  in  his  yard  :  I 
hope  he  will  not  take  it  amiss. 

Do  so,  said  the  children,  and  persuade  him  to 
hang  him,  fur  we  are  afraid  he  will  bite  us  when  we 
go  hence. 

1  Malt.  xi.  12. 


312  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So  at  last  he  came  down  to  them  again,  and 
Mercy  fell  to  the  ground  on  her  face  before  him, 
and  worshipped,  and  said,  "Let  my  Lord  accept  the 
sacrifice  of  praise  which  I  now  offer  unto  him  with 
the  calves  of  my  lips." 

So  he  said  unto  her,  Peace  be  to  thee  ;  stand  up. 
But  she  continued  upon  her  face,  and  said,  "  Right- 
eous art  thou,  O  Lord,  when  I  plead  with  thee  ;  yet. 
let  me  talk  with  thee  of  thy  judgments  :"^  wherefore 
dost  thou  keep  so  cruel  a  dog  in  thy  yard,  at  the 
sight  of  which  such  women  and  children  as  we,  are 
ready  to  flee  from  thy  gate  for  fear? 

He  answered  and  said,  That  dog  has  another 
owner:  he  also  is  kept  close  in  another  man's 
ground,  only  my  pilgrims  hear  his  barking :  he  be- 
longs to  the  castle  which  you  see  there  at  a  distance, 
but  can  come  up  to  the  walls  of  this  place.  He  has 
frighted  many  an  honest  pilgrim  from  worse  to 
better,  by  the  great  voice  of  his  roaring.  Indeec?, 
he  that  owneth  him  doth  not  keep  him  out  of  any 
good-will  to  me  or  mine,  but  with  intent  to  keep  the 
pilgrims  from  coming  to  me,  and  that  they  may  be 
afraid  to  come  and  knock  at  this  gate  for  entrance. 
Sometimes  also  he  has  broken  out,  and  has  worried 
some  that  I  loved  ;  but  I  take  all  at  present  patiently. 
I  also  give  my  pilgrims  timely  help,  so  that  they  are 
1  |er.  xii.  i,  2. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  313 

not  delivered  to  his  power,  to  do  with  them  wliat  his 
doggish  nature  would  prompt  him  to.  But  what ! 
my  purchased  one,  I  trow,  hadst  thou  known  never 
so  much  bcforeliand,  thou  wouUlest  not  have  been 
afraid  of  a  dog.  The  beggars  that  go  from  door  to 
door,  will,  rather  than  lose  a  supposed  alms,  run  the 
hazard  of  the  bawling,  barking,  and  biting  too,  of  a 
dog  ;  and  shall  a  dog,  a  dog  in  another  man's  yard, 
a  dog  whose  barking  I  turn  to  the  profit  of  pilgrims, 
keep  any  from  coming  to  me.'*  I  deliver  them  from 
the  lions,  and  "  my  darling  from  the  power  of  the 
dog."' 

Then  said  Mercy,  I  confess  my  ignorance  :  I  spake 
what  I  understood  not:  I  acknowledge  that  thou 
dost  all  things  well. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  talk  of  their  journey, 
and  to  inquire  after  the  way.  So  he  fed  them,  and 
washed  their  feet,  and  set  them  in  the  way  of  his 
steps,  according  as  he  had  dealt  with  her  husband 
before. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  walked  on 
their  way  ;  and  had  the  weather  very  comfortable  to 
them. 

Ther  Christiana  began  to  sing,  saying, 

Blest  be  the  day  that  I  began 
A  pilgrim  for  to  be  ; 
'  r<i.  xxii.  20,  21. 


3H  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

And  blessed  also  be  that  man 
That  thereto  moved  me. 

'Tis  true,  'twas  long  ere  I  began 

To  seek  to  live  for  ever : 
But  now  I  run  fast  as  I  can  : 

'Tis  better  late  than  never. 

Our  tears  to  joy,  our  fears  to  faith, 

Are  turned  as  we  see  ; 
Thus  our  beginning  (as  one  saith) 

Shows  what  our  end  will  be. 

Now,  there  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  that 
fenced  in  the  way  up  which  Christiana  and  her  com- 
panions were  to  go,  a  garden,  and  that  garden  be- 
longed to  him  whose  was  that  barking  dog,  of  whom 
mention  was  made  before.  And  some  of  the  fruit 
trees  that  grew  in  that  garden  shot  their  branches 
over  the  wall ;  and  being  mellow,  they  that  found 
them  did  gather  them  up,  and  eat  of  them  to  their 
hurt.  So  Christiana's  boys  (as  boys  are  apt  to  do), 
being  pleased  with  the  trees,  and  with  the  fruit  that 
did  hang  thereon,  did  pluck  them,  and  began  to  eat. 
Their  mother  did  also  chide  them  for  so  doing,  but 
still  the  boys  went  on. 

Well,  said  she,  my  sons,  you  transgress,  for  that 
fruit  is  none  of  ours :  but  she  did  not  know  that  it 
belonged  to  the  enemy.  I'll  warrant  you,  if  she  had, 
she  would  have  been  ready  to  die  for  fear.     But  that 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  315 

passed,  and  they  went  on  their  way.  Now,  by  that 
they  were  gone  about  two  bow-shots  from  the  place 
that  led  them  into  the  way,  they  spied  two  very  ill- 
favoured  ones  coming  down  apace  to  meet  them. 
With  that,  Christiana,  and  Mercy  her  friend,  covered 
themselves  with  their  veils,  and  so  kept  on  their 
journey :  the  children  also  went  on  before  ;  so  that 
at  last  they  met  together.  Then  they  that  came 
down  to  meet  them,  came  just  up  to  the  women,  as 
if  they  would  embrace  them  :  but  Christiana  said, 
Stand  back,  or  go  peaceably  as  you  should.  Yet 
these  two,  as  men  that  are  deaf,  regarded  not  Chris- 
tiana's words,  but  began  to  lay  hands  upon  them  : 
at  that  Christiana  waxing  very  wroth,  spurned  at 
them  with  her  feet.  Mercy  also,  as  well  as  she 
could,  did  what  she  could  to  shift  them.  Christiana 
again  said  to  them,  Stand  back,  and  be  gone,  for 
we  have  no  money  to  lose,  being  pilgrims,  as  you 
see,  and  such  too  as  live  upon  the  charity  of  our 
friends. 

Then  said  one  of  the  two  men.  We  make  no  as- 
sault on  you  for  money,  but  are  come  out  to  tell 
you,  that  if  you  will  but  grant  one  small  request  we 
shall  ask,  we  will  make  women  of  you  for  ever. 

Now  Christiana,  imagining  what  they  should 
mean,  made  answer  again.  We  will  neither  hear, 
nor  regard,  nf  r  yield  to  what  you  shall  ask.     We  are 


3l6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

in  haste,  and  cannot  stay ;  our  business  is  a  business 
of  life  and  death.  So  again  she  and  her  companion 
made  a  fresh  essay  to  go  past  them  :  but  they  letted 
them  in  their  way. 

And  they  said,  We  intend  no  hurt  to  your  lives  ; 
tis  another  thing  we  would  have. 

Ay,  quoth  Christiana,  you  would  have  us  body 
and  soul,  for  I  know  'tis  for  that  you  are  come  ;  but 
we  will  die  rather  upon  the  spot,  than  to  suffer  our- 
selves to  be  brought  into  such  snares  as  shall  hazard 
our  well-being  hereafter.  And  with  that  they  both 
shrieked  out,  and  cried,  Murder !  murder !  and  so 
put  themselves  under  those  laws  that  are  provided 
for  the  protection  of  women. ^  But  the  men  still 
made  their  approach  upon  them,  with  design  to 
prevail  against  them.  They  therefore  cried  out 
again. 

Now  they  being,  as  I  said,  not  far  from  the  gato 
in  at  which  they  came,  their  voice  was  heard  from 
whence  they  were,  thither :  wherefore  some  of  the 
house  came  out,  and  knowing  that  it  was  Chris- 
tiana's tongue,  they  made  haste  to  her  relief.  But  by 
that  they  were  got  within  sight  of  them,  the  women 
were  in  a  very  great  scuffle  :  the  children  also  stood 
crying  by.  Then  did  he  that  came  in  for  their  re- 
lief call  out  <T  the  ruffians,  saying.  What  is  that 
1  Deut.  xxii.  25-27. 


THE  PiLGIUM'S  PROGHESS.  317 

thing  you  do?  Would  3011  make  my  Lord's  people 
to  transgress?  He  also  attempted  to  take  them  :  but 
they  did  make  their  escape  over  the  wall  into  the 
garden  of  the  man  to  whom  the  great  dog  belonged: 
so  the  dog  became  their  protector.  This  Relievef 
then  came  up  to  the  women,  and  asked  them  how 
they  did.  So  they  answered,  We  thank  thy  Prince, 
pretty  well,  only  we  have  been  somewhat  aflrighted  ; 
we  thank  thee  also,  that  thou  camest  in  to  our  help, 
otherwise  we  had  been  overcome. 

So,  after  a  few  more  words,  this  Reliever  said  as 
followeth  :  I  marvelled  much,  when  you  were  enter- 
tained at  the  gate  above,  being  ye  knew  that  ye  were 
but  weak  women,  that  you  petitioned  not  the  Lord 
for  a  conductor  ;  then  might  you  have  avoided  these 
troubles  and  dangers ;  for  he  would  have  granted 
you  one. 

Alas  !  said  Christiana,  we  were  so  taken  with  our 
present  blessing,  that  dangers  to  come  were  forgotten 
by  us  :  beside,  who  could  have  thought,  that  so  near 
the  King's  palace  there  could  have  lurked  such 
naughty  ones?  Indeed,  it  had  been  well  for  us,  had 
we  asked  our  Lord  for  one;  but,  since  our  Lord 
knew  it  would  be  for  our  profit,  I  wonder  he  sent 
not  one  along  with  us. 

Rel.  It  is  not  always  necessary  to  giant  things 
not  asked  for,  lest  by  so  doing  they  become  of  little 


3l8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

esteem  ;  but  when  the  want  of  a  thuig  is  fell  it  then 
comes  under,  in  the  eyes  of  him  that  feels  it,  that 
estimate  that  properly  is  its  due,  and  so  consequently 
will  be  thereafter  used.  Had  my  Lord  granted  you 
a  conductor,  you  would  not  either  so  have  bewailed 
that  oversight  of  yours  in  not  asking  for  one,  as  now 
you  have  occasion  to  do.  So  all  things  work  foi 
good,  and  tend  to  make  you  more  wary. 

Chr.  Shall  we  go  back  again  to  my  Lord,  and 
confess  our  folly,  and  ask  one  ? 

Rel.  Your  confession  of  your  folly  I  will  present 
him  with  :  to  go  back  again,  you  need  not,  for  in  all 
places  where  you  shall  come,  you  shall  find  no  want 
at  all ;  for  in  every  one  of  my  Lord's  lodgings, 
which  he  has  prepared  for  the  reception  of  his  pil- 
grims, there  is  sufficient  to  furnish  them  against  all 
attempts  whatsoever.  But,  as  I  said,  "  he  will  be 
inquired  of  by  them,  to  do  it  for  them."^  And  'tis 
a  poor  thing  that  is  not  worth  asking  for. 

When  he  had  thus  said,  he  went  back  to  his  place, 
and  the  pilgrims  went  on  their  way. 

Then  said  Mercy,  What  a  sudden  blank  is  here  "i 
I  made  account  that  we  had  been  past  all  danger, 
and  that  we  should  never  see  sorrow  more. 

Thy  innocency,  my  sister,  said  Christiana  to 
Mercy,  may  excuse  thee  much;  but  as  for  nie,  my 
^  Ezek.  xxxvi.  37. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  319 

fault  is  so  much  the  greater,  for  that  I  saw  this  danger 
before  I  came  out  of  the  doors,  and  yet  did  not  pro- 
vide for  it  wlien  provision  might  have  been  had.  I 
am  much  to  be  bhimcd. 

Then  said  Mercy,  How  knew  you  this  before 
you  came  from  home?  Pray  open  to  me  this 
riddle. 

Chr.  Why,  I  will  tell  you.  Before  I  set  foot  out 
of  doors,  one  night,  as  I  lay  in  my  bed,  I  had  a 
dream  about  this :  for  methought  I  saw  two  men,  as 
like  these  as  ever  any  in  the  world  could  look,  stand 
at  my  bed's  feet,  plotting  how  they  might  prevent 
my  salvation.  I  will  tell  you  their  very  words :  they 
said  ('twas  when  I  was  in  my  troubles),  What  shall 
we  do  with  this  woman?  for  she  cries  out,  waking 
and  sleeping,  for  forgiveness.  If  she  be  suffered  to 
go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall  lose  her  as  we  have 
lost  her  husband.  This,  you  know,  might  have 
made  me  take  heed,  and  have  provided  when  pro- 
vision might  have  been  had. 

Well,  said  Mercy,  as  by  this  neglect  we  have  an 
occasion  ministered  unto  us  to  behold  our  own  im- 
perfections, so  our  Lord  has  taken  occasion  thereby 
to  make  manifest  the  riches  of  his  grace  ;  for  he,  as 
we  see,  has  followed  us  with  unasked  kindness,  and 
has  delivered  us  from  their  hands  that  were  stronger 
than  we,  of  his  mere  good  pleasure. 


320  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Thus  now,  when  they  had  talked  away  a  little 
more  time,  they  drew  near  to  a  house  that  stood  in 
the  way,  which  house  was  built  for  the  relief  of  pil- 
grims, as  you  will  find  more  fully  related  in  the  First 
Part  of  these  records  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  So 
they  drew  on  towards  the  house  (the  house  of  the 
Interpreter)  ;  and  when  they  came  to  the  door,  they 
heard  a  great  talk  in  the  house.  Then  they  gave 
ear,  and  heard,  as  they  thought,  Christiana  men- 
tioned by  name ;  for  you  must  know  that  there  went 
along,  even  before  her,  a  talk  of  her  and  her  cliil- 
dren's  going  on  pilgrimage.  And  this  was  the  most 
pleasing  to  them,  because  they  had  heard  that  she 
was  Christian's  wife,  that  woman  who  was,  some 
time  ago,  so  unwilling  to  hear  of  going  on  pilgrim- 
age. Thus,  thei'efore,  they  stood  still,  and  heard 
the  good  people  within  commending  her,  who  they 
little  thought  stood  at  the  door.  Kt  last  Christiana 
knocked,  as  she  had  done  at  the  gate  before.  Now, 
when  she  had  knocked,  there  came  to  the  door  a 
j'oung  damsel,  and  opened  the  door,  and  looked,  and 
behold,  two  women  were  there. 

Then  said  the  damsel  to  them.  With  whom  would 
you  speak  in  this  place  .-^ 

Christiana  answered,  We  understand  that  this  is  a 
privileged  place  for  those  that  are  become  pilgrims, 
and  we   now   at  this  door  are   such  ;  wherefore  we 


THE  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS.  32 1 

pray  that  we  may  be  partakers  of  that  for  which  we 
at  this  time  are  come  ;  for  the  day,  as  thou  seest,  is 
very  far  spent,  and  we  are  loth  to-night  to  go  anv 
further. 

Dam.  Pray,  what  may  I  call  your  name,  that  I 
may  tell  it  to  my  Lord  within? 

Chr.  My  name  is  Christiana  ;  I  was  tlie  wife  of 
that  pilgrim  that  some  years  ago  did  travel  tliis 
way  ;  and  these  be  his  four  children.  This  maiden 
also  is  my  companion,  and  is  going  on  pilgrimage 
too. 

Tlien  Innocent  ran  in  (for  that  was  her  name). 
and  said  to  those  within.  Can  you  think  who  is  at 
the  door.'  There  is  Christiana,  and  her  children, 
and  her  companion,  all  waiting  for  entertainment 
here  !  Then  tliey  leaped  for  joy,  and  went  and  told 
their  Master.  So  he  came  to  the  door,  and,  looking 
upon  her,  he  said.  Art  thou  that  Christiana  whom 
Christian  the  good  man  left  behind  him,  when  he 
betook  himself  to  a  pilgrim's  life? 

Chr.  I  am  that  woman,  that  was  so  hard-hearted 
as  to  slight  my  husband's  troubles,  and  that  left  him 
to  go  on  his  journey  alone  ;  and  these  are  his  four 
children  :  but  now  I  also  am  come,  for  I  am  con- 
vinced that  no  way  is  right  but  this. 

Inter.  Then  is  fulfilled  that  which  is  written  of 
the  man  that  said  to  his  son,  "  Go,  work  to-day  in 
21 


322  THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

my  vineyard  :  and  he  said  to  his  father,  I  will  not , 
but  afterwards  repented,  and  went."  ^ 

Then  said  Christiana,  So  be  it:  Amen.  God 
make  it  a  true  saying  upon  me,  and  grant  that  I  may 
oe  found  at  the  last  of  him  in  peace,  without  spot, 
md  blameless  ! 

Inter.  But  why  standest  thou  thus  at  the  door.'' 
Come  in,  thou  daughter  of  Abraham :  we  were 
talking  of  thee  but  now,  for  tidings  have  come  to  us 
before,  how  thou  art  become  a  pilgrim.  Come, 
children,  come  in  ;  come,  maiden,  come  in  !  So  he 
had  them  all  into  the  house. 

So,  when  they  were  within,  they  were  bidden  to 
sit  down  and  rest  them  ;  the  which  when  they  had 
done,  those  that  attended  upon  the  pilgrims  in  the 
house  came  into  the  room  to  see  them.  And  one 
smiled,  and  another  smiled,  and  they  all  smiled,  for 
joy  that  Christiana  was  become  a  pilgrim.  They 
also  looked  upon  the  boys  ;  they  stroked  them  over 
their  faces  with  the  hand,  in  token  of  their  kind  re- 
ception of  them  :  they  also  carried  it  lovingly  to 
Mercy,  and  bid  them  all  welcome  into  their  Master's 
house. 

After  a  while,  because  supper  was  not  ready,  the 
Interpreter  took  them  into  his  Significant  Rooms, 
and  showed  them  what  Christian,  Christiana's  hus- 
1  Matt.  XXI.  28,  29. 


THE   PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS.  3.3 

band,  had  seen  some  time  before.  Here,  therefore, 
tliey  saw  the  man  in  the  cage,  the  man  and  his 
dream,  the  man  tliat  cut  his  way  through  his  ene- 
mies, and  the  picture  of  the  biggest  of  them  all  ;  to- 
gether with  the  rest  of  those  things  tliat  were  then 
so  profitable  to  Christian. 

This  done,  and  after  those  things  had  been  some- 
what digested  by  Christiana  and  her  company,  the 
Interpreter  takes  them  apart  again,  and  has  them 
first  into  a  room  where  was  a  man  that  could  look 
no  way  but  downwards,  with  a  muck-rake  in  his 
hand  There  stood  also  one  over  his  head  with  a 
celestial  crown  in  his  hand,  and  proffered  him  that 
crown  for  his  muck-rake ;  but  the  man  did  neither 
look  up  nor  regard,  but  raked  to  himself  the  straws, 
the  small  sticks,  and  dust  of  the  floor. 

Then  said  Christiana,  I  persuade  myself,  that  I 
know  somewhat  the  meaning  of  this ;  for  this  is  a 
figure  of  a  man  of  this  world  :  is  it  not,  good  sir.? 

Thou  hast  said  right,  said  he,  and  his  muck-rake 
doth  show  his  carnal  mind.  And,  whereas  thou 
seest  him  rather  give  heed  to  rake  up  straws  and 
sticks,  and  the  dust  of  the  floor,  than  to  do  what 
He  says  that  calls  to  him  from  above,  with  the  ce- 
lestial crown  in  his  hand  ;  it  is  to  show,  that  heaven 
is  but  as  a  fable  to  some,  and  that  things  here  are 
counted  the  only  things  substantial.     Now,  whereas 


324  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

it  was  also  sliowed  thee,  that  the  man  could  look  no 
way  but  downwards,  it  is  to  let  thee  know,  tliat 
earthly  things,  when  they  are  with  power  upon 
men's  minds,  quite  carry  their  hearts  away  from 
God. 

Then  said  Christiana,  Oh  deliver  me  from  this 
muck-rake  ! 

That  praj-er,  said  the  Interpreter,  has  lain  by  till 
it  is  almost  rusty  :  "  Give  me  not  riches,"  is  scarce 
the  prayer  of  one  in  ten  thousand.^  Straws  ana 
sticks,  and  dust,  witli  most,  are  the  great  things  now 
looked  after. 

With  that  Christiana  and  Mercy  wept,  and  said,  It 
is,  alas  !  too  true. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  showed  them  this,  he 
had  them  into  the  very  best  room  in  the  house  (a 
very  brave  room  it  was)  :  so  he  bid  them  look  rouna 
about  and  see  if  they  could  find  anything  profitable 
there.  Then  they  looked  round  and  round,  for  there 
was  nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  very  great  spider  on 
the  wall ;  and  that  they  overlooked. 

Then  said  Mercy,  Sir,  I  see  nothing ;  but  Chris- 
tiana held  her  peace. 

But,  said  the  Interpreter,  look  again  :  she  there- 
fore looked  again,  and  said,  Here  is  not  anything 
but  an  ugly  spider,  who  hangs  by  her  hands  upon 
^  Prov.  XXX.  8 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  325 

the  waW  Then,  said  he,  Is  there  but  one  spider  in 
all  this  spacious  room?  Then  the  water  stood  in 
Christiana's  eyes,  for  she  was  a  woman  quick  of  ap- 
prehension :  and  she  said.  Yea,  Lord,  there  is  more 
here  than  one  ;  yea,  and  spiders  whose  venom  is  far 
more  destructive  than  that  which  is  in  her.  The  In- 
terpreter then  looked  pleasantly  on  her,  and  said. 
Thou  hast  said  the  truth.  This  made  Mercy  to 
blush,  and  the  boys  to  cover  their  faces  ;  for  they  all 
began  now  to  understand  the  riddle. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again,  "  The  spider 
taketh  hold  with  her  hands  (as  you  sec),  and  is  in 
kings'  palaces."  And  wherefore  is  this  recorded, 
but  to  show  you,  that,  how  full  of  the  venom  of  sin 
soever  you  be,  yet  you  may,  by  the  hand  of  fiiith, 
lay  hold  of,  and  dwell  in,  the  best  room  that  belonga 
to  the  King's  house  above.? 

I  thought,  said  Christiana,  of  something  of  this  ; 
but  I  could  not  imagine  it  at  all.  I  thought  that  we 
were  like  spiders,  and  that  we  looked  like  ugly  crea- 
tures, in  what  fine  rooms  soever  we  were  ;  but  that 
by  this  spider,  that  venomous  and  ill-favoured  crea- 
ture, we  were  to  learn  how  to  act  faith,  that  came 
not  into  my  thoughts ;  and  yet  she  had  taken  hold 
with  her  hands,  and  as  I  sen,  dwelleth  in  the  best 
room  in  the  house.  God  has  made  nothing  in 
vain. 


326  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Then  tley  seemed  all  to  be  glad;  but  the  watei 
stood  i(.  their  eyes  ;  yet  they  looked  one  upon  an 
other,  and  also  bowed  before  the  Interpreter. 

He  had  them  into  another  room,  where  was  a  hen 
and  chickens,  and  bid  them  observe  a  while.  So 
one  of  the  chickens  went  to  the  trough  to  drink,  and 
every  time  she  drank  she  lifted  up  her  head  and  her 
eyes  towards  heaven.  See  said  he,  what  this  little 
chick  doth,  and  learn  of  her  to  acknowledge  whence 
your  mercies  come,  by  receiving  them  with  looking 
up.  Yet  again,  said  he,  observe  and  look  ;  so  they 
gave  heed,  and  peixeived  that  the  hen  did  walk  in  a 
fourfold  method  towards  her  chickens,  i.  She  had 
a  common  call,  and  that  she  hath  all  the  day  long. 
2.  She  had  a  special  call,  and  that  she  had  but 
sometimes.  3.  She  had  a  brooding  note.  And,  4. 
She  had  an  outcry.^ 

Now,  said  he,  compare  this  hen  to  your  King,  and 
these  chickens  to  his  obedient  ones.  For,  answer- 
able to  her,  himself  has  his  methods,  which  he 
walketh  in  towards  his  people.  By  his  common  call 
he  gives  nothing;  by  his  special  call  he  always  has 
something  to  give  ;  he  has  also  a  brooding  voice  for 
them  that  are  under  his  wing  ;  and  he  has  an  outcry, 
to  give  the  alarm  when  he  seeth  the  enemy  come 
I  chooje,  my  darlings,  to  lead  you  into  the  room 
1  Matt,  xxiii.  37. 


THE  PIIAiRlMS  PROGRESS.  327 

where  such  things  arc,  because  you  are  women,  and 
they  are  easy  for  yon. 

And,  sir,  said  Christiana,  pray  let  us  see  some 
more.  So  lie  liad  them  into  the  slaughter-house, 
where  was  a  butcher  killing  a  sheep  :  and,  beiiold, 
the  sheep  was  quiet,  and  took  her  death  patiently. 
Then  said  the  Interpreter,  You  must  learn  of  this 
sheep  to  sutler,  antl  to  put  up  with  wrongs  without 
niurmurings  and  complaints.  Behold  how  quietly 
she  takes  her  death,  and,  without  objecting,  she  suf- 
fereth  her  skin  to  be  pulled  over  her  ears.  Your 
King  doth  call  you  his  sheep. 

After  this,  he  led  them  into  his  garden,  where  was 
great  variety  of  flowers ;  and  he  said.  Do  you  see 
all  these?  So  Christiana  said,  Yes.  Then  said  he 
again.  Behold,  the  flowers  are  diverse  in  stature,  in 
quality,  and  colour,  and  smell,  and  virtue :  and  some 
are  better  than  others  ;  also,  where  the  gardener  hath 
set  them,  there  they  stand,  and  quarrel  not  one  with 
another. 

Again,  he  had  them  into  his  field,  which  he  had 
sown  with  wheat  and  corn  :  but  when  they  beheld, 
the  tops  of  all  were  cut  off',  only  the  straw  remained. 
He  said  again.  This  ground  was  dunged,  and 
ploughed,  and  sowed  ;  but  what  shall  we  do  with 
the  crop?  Then  said  Christiana,  Burn  some,  and 
make  muck  of  the  rest.     Then  said  the  Interpreter 


328  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

again,  Fruit,  you  see,  is  that  thing  you  look  for,  and 
for  want  of  that  you  condemn  it  to  the  fire,  and  to 
be  trodden  under  foot  of  men  :  beware  that  in  this 
you  condemn  not  yourselves. 

Then,  as  they  were  coming  in  from  abroad,  they 
spied  a  little  robin  with  a  great  spider  in  his  mouth  : 
<iO  the  Interpreter  said,  Look  here.  So  they  looked, 
and  Mercy  wondered  ;  but  Christiana  said,  What  a 
disparagement  is  it  to  such  a  pretty  little  bird  as  the 
-,obin-redbreast ;  he  being  also  a  bird,  above  many, 
that  loveth  to  maintain  a  kind  of  sociableness  with 
men  I  I  had  thought  they  had  lived  upon  crumbs 
of  bread,  or  upon  such  other  harmless  matter:  I  like 
him  worse  than  I  did. 

The  Interpreter  then  replied.  This  robin  is  an  em- 
blem, very  apt  to  set  forth  some  professors  by  ;  for 
to  sight  they  are,  as  this  robin,  pretty  of  note,  colour, 
and  carriage  ;  they  seem  also  to  have  a  very  great 
love  for  professors  that  are  sincere  ;  and,  above  all 
others,  to  desire  to  associate  with  them,  and  to  be  in 
their  company,  as  if  they  could  live  upon  the  good 
man's  crumbs.  They  pretend  also,  that  therefore  it 
is  that  they  frequent  the  house  of  the  godly,  and  the 
appointments  of  the  Lord  :  but  when  tliey  are  by 
themselves,  as  the  robin,  they  can  catch  and  gobble 
up  spiders,  they  can  change  their  diet,  drink  iniquity, 
and  swallo\/  down  sin  like  water. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  329 

So  when  they  were  come  again  into  tlie  house, 
because  supper  as  yet  was  not  ready,  Christiana 
again  desired  that  the  Interpreter  would  either  shew 
or  tell  some  other  things  that  are  profitable. 

Then  the  Interpreter  began,  and  said  :  The  fatter 
the  sow  is,  the  more  she  desires  the  mire  ;  the  fattef 
the  ox  is,  the  more  gamesomely  he  goes  to  the 
slaughter  ;  and  the  more  healthy  the  lustful  man  is, 
the  more  prone  is  he  unto  evil. 

There  is  a  desire  in  women  to  go  neat  and  fine  : 
and  it  is  a  comely  thing  to  be  adorned  with  that 
wliich  in  God's  sight  is  of  great  price. 

'Tis  easier  watching  a  night  or  two,  than  to  sit  up  a 
whole  year  togetlier  :  so  'tis  easier  for  one  to  begin  to 
profess  well,  than  to  Iiold  out  as  he  should  to  the  end. 

Every  shipmaster,  when  in  a  storm,  will  willingly 
cast  that  overboard  that  is  of  the  smallest  value  in 
the  vessel  :  but  who  will  throw  the  bes'  out  first.'* 
None  but  he  that  feareth  not  God. 

One  leak  will  sink  a  ship  :  and  one  sin  w^l  destroy 
a  sinner. 

He  that  forgets  his  friend,  is  ungrateful  unto  him, 
but  he  that  forgets  his  Saviour  is  unmerr'^>:l  to 
himself. 

He  that  lives  in  sin,  and  looks  for  happiness  here- 
after, is  like  him  that  soweth  cockle,  and  think'^  to 
fill  his  1  irn  with  wheat  or  barley. 


330  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

If  a  man  would  Ih^e  well,  let  him  fetch  his  last 
day  to  him,  and  make  it  always  his  company-keeper. 

Whispering  and  change  of  thoughts  prove  that 
sin  is  in  the  world. 

If  the  world,  which  God  sets  light  by,  is  counted 
a  thing  of  that  worth  with  men  ;  what  is  heaven, 
that  God  commendeth? 

If  the  life  that  is  attended  with  so  many  troubles, 
is  so  loth  to  be  let  go  by  us,  what  is  the  life  above? 

Everybody  will  cry  up  the  goodness  of  men  ;  but 
who  is  there,  that  is,  as  he  should  be,  affected  with 
the  goodness  of  God  ? 

We  seldom  sit  down  to  meat,  but  we  eat  and 
leave :  so  there  is  in  Jesus  Christ  more  merit  and 
righteousness  than  the  whole  world  has  need  of. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  done,  he  takes  them  out 
into  his  garden  again,  and  had  them  to  a  tree,  whose 
inside  was  all  rotten  and  gone,  and  yet  it  grew  and 
had  leaves.  Then  said  Mercy,  What  means  this.? 
This  tree  (said  he),  whose  outside  is  fair,  and  whose 
inside  is  rotten,  is  it,  to  which  many  may  be  com- 
pared that  are  in  the  garden  of  God  ;  who  with  their 
mouths  speak  high  in  behalf  of  God,  but  in  deed 
will  do  nothing  for  him  ;  whose  leaves  are  fair,  but 
their  heart  good  for  nothing,  but  to  be  tinder  for  the 
dev  I's  tinder-box. 

Now  suppe-  was  ready,  the  table  spread,  and  all 


TUB  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  331 

things  set  on  the  boaril ;  so  they  sat  down  and  did 
eat,  when  one  had  given  thanks.  And  the  Inter- 
preter did  usually  entertain  those  that  lodged  with 
him,  wit  1  music  at  meals;  so  the  minstrels  phtyed. 
There  was  also  one  that  did  sing,  and  a  very  fine 
voice  he  had.     His  song  was  this — 

The  Lord  is  only  my  support, 

And  he  that  doth  me  feed ; 
How  can  I  then  want  anything 

Whereof  I  stand  in  need  ? 

When  the  song  and  music  were  ended,  the  Inter- 
preter asked  Christiana,  what  it  was  that  at  first  did 
move  her  thus  to  betake  herself  to  a  pilgrim's  life. 
Christiana  answered,  First,  the  loss  of  my  husband 
came  into  my  mind,  at  which  I  was  heartily  grieved  : 
but  all  that  was  but  natural  afiection.  Then,  after 
that,  came  the  troubles  and  pilgrimage  of  my  hus- 
band into  my  mind,  and  also  how  like  a  churl  I  had 
carried  it  to  him  as  to  that.  So  guilt  took  hold  of 
my  mind,  and  would  have  drawn  me  into  the  pond  ; 
but  that  opportunely  I  had  a  dream  of  the  well- 
being  of  my  husband,  and  a  letter  sent  me  by  the 
King  of  that  country  where  my  husband  dwells,  to 
come  to  him.  The  dream  and  the  letter  together  so 
wrought  '  Don  my  mind,  that  they  forced  me  to  tliis 
way. 


332  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Inter.  But  met  you  with  no  opposition  before 
you  set  out  of  doors? 

Chr.  Yes,  a  neighbour  of  mme,  one  ]\Irs.  Timor- 
ous (she  was  akin  to  him  that  would  have  persuaded 
my  husband  to  go  back  for  fear  of  the  lions),  she 
also  so  befooled  me,  for,  as  she  called  it,  my  intended 
desperate  adventure  ;  she  also  urged  what  she  could 
to  dishearten  me  from  it ;  the  hardships  and  troubles 
that  my  husband  met  with  in  the  way  :  but  all  this  I 
got  over  pretty  well.  But  a  dream  that  I  had  of  two 
ill-looking  ones,  that  I  thought  did  plot  how  to  make 
me  miscarry  in  my  journey,  that  hath  troubled  me 
much  :  yea,  it  still  runs  in  my  mind,  and  makes  me 
afraid  of  every  one  that  I  meet,  lest  they  should 
meet  me  to  do  me  a  mischief,  and  to  turn  me  out  of 
my  way.  Yea,  I  may  tell  my  Lord,  though  I  would 
not  everybody  know  it,  that  between  this  and  the 
gate  by  which  we  got  into  the  way,  we  were  both  so 
sorely  assaulted,  that  v/e  were  made  to  cry  out  Mur- 
der !  and  the  two  that  made  this  assault  upon  us, 
were  like  the  two  that  I  saw  in  my  dream. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Thy  beginning  is  good, 
thy  latter  end  shall  greatly  increase.  So  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  Mercy,  and  said  unto  her.  And 
what  moved  thee  to  come  hither,  sweet  heart.'' 

Then  Mercy  Hushed  and  trembled,  and  for  a  while 
continued  silent 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PR  OGRESS.  333 

Then  said  he,  Be  not  afraid,  only  believe,  and 
speak  thy  mind. 

So  she  began,  and  said,  Tiiily,  sir,  my  want  of  ex- 
perience is  that  which  makes  me  covet  to  be  in 
silence,  and  that  also  that  fills  me  with  fears  of  com- 
ing short  at  last.  I  cannot  tell  of  visions  and  dreams, 
as  my  friend  Christiana  can  :  nor  know  I  what  it  is 
to  mourn  for  my  refusing  of  the  counsel  of  tiiose 
that  were  good  relations. 

Inter.  What  was  it  then,  dear  heart,  that  hath 
prevailed  with  thee  to  do  as  thou  hast  done? 

Mer.  Why,  when  our  friend  here  was  packing  up 
to  be  gone  from  our  town,  I  and  another  went  acci- 
dentally to  see  her.  So  we  knocked  at  the  door,  and 
went  in.  W^hen  we  were  within,  and  seeing  what 
she  was  doing,  we  asked  her  what  was  her  meaning? 
She  said  she  was  sent  for,  to  go  to  her  husband  ;  and 
then  she  up  and  told  us  how  she  had  seen  him  in  a 
dream,  dwelling  in  a  curious  place  among  immor- 
tals, wearing  a  crown,  playing  upon  a  harp,  eating 
and  drinking  at  his  Prince's  table,  and  singing 
praises  to  him  for  bringing  him  thither,  etc.  Now 
methought,  while  she  was  telling  these  things  unto 
us,  my  heart  burned  within  me.  And  I  said  in  my 
heart,  If  this  be  true,  I  will  leave  my  father  and  my 
mother,  and  the  land  of  my  naMvity,  and  will,  if  I 
may,  go  al  mg  with  Christiana. 


334  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So  I  asked  her  further  of  the  truth  of  these  twhigs, 
and  if  she  would  let  me  go  with  her :  for  I  saw  now, 
that  there  was  no  dwelling,  but  with  the  danger  of 
ruin,  any  longer  in  our  town.  But  yet  I  came  away 
with  a  heavy  heart ;  not  for  that  I  was  unwilling  to 
come  away,  but  for  that  so  many  of  my  relations 
were  left  behind  And  I  am  come  with  all  the  de- 
sire of  my  heart,  and  will  go,  if  I  may,  with  Chris- 
tiana, unto  her  husband,  and  his  King. 

Inter.  Thy  setting  out  is  good,  for  thou  hast 
given  credit  to  the  truth  ;  thou  art  a  Ruth,  who  did, 
for  the  love  she  bare  to  Naomi,  and  to  the  Lord  her 
God,  leave  father  and  mother,  and  the  land  of  her 
nativity,  to  come  out  and  go  with  a  people  that  she 
knew  not  heretofore.  "  The  Lord  recompense  thy 
work,  and  a  full  reward  be  given  thee  of  the  Lord 
God  of  Israel,  under  whose  wings  thou  art  come  to 
trust.'" 

Now  supper  was  ended,  and  preparation  was 
made  for  bed  :  the  women  were  laid  singly  alone 
and  the  boys  by  themselves.  Now  when  Mercy  was 
in  bed,  she  could  not  sleep  for  joy,  for  that  now  her 
doubts  of  missing  at  last  were  removed  further  from 
her  than  ever  they  were  before.  So  she  lay  blessing 
and  praising  God,  who  had  such  favour  for  her. 

In  the  morning  they  arose  with  the  sun,  and  pre- 
'  Ruth  ii.  II,  12. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  335 

pared  themselves  for  tlieir  departure  ;  but  the  luter- 
pretcr  would  have  them  tarry  a  while  ;  For,  said  he, 
you  must  orderly  go  from  hence.  Then  said  he  to 
the  damsel  that  first  opened  unto  them.  Take  them 
and  have  them  into  the  garden  to  the  bath,  and  there 
w^ash  them  and  make  them  clean  from  the  soil  which 
they  have  gathered  by  travelling.  Then  Innocent 
the  damsel  took  them,  and  led  them  into  the  garden, 
and  brought  them  to  the  bath  ;  so  she  told  them, 
that  there  they  must  wash  and  be  clean,  for  so  her 
Master  would  have  the  women  to  do,  that  called  at 
his  house  as  they  were  going  on  pilgrimage.  Then 
they  went  in  and  washed,  yea,  they  and  the  boys 
and  all ;  and  they  came  out  of  that  bath  not  only 
sweet  and  clean,  but  also  much  enlivened  and 
strengthened  in  their  joints.  So  when  they  came 
in,  they  looked  fairer  a  deal  than  when  tliey  went  out 
to  the  washing. 

When  they  were  returned  out  of  the  garden  from 
the  bath,  the  Interpreter  took  them,  and  looked  upon 
them,  and  said  unto  them,  "  Fair  as  the  moon." 
Then  he  called  for  the  seal,  wherewith  they  used  to 
be  sealed  that  were  washed  in  his  bath.  So  the  seal 
was  brought,  and  he  set  his  mark  upon  them,  that 
they  might  be  known  in  the  places  whither  they 
were  yet  to  go.  Now  the  seal  was  the  contents  and 
sum  of  the  passover  which  the  children  of   Israel 


33^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

did  eat  when  they  came  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  ;^ 
and  the  mark  was  set  between  their  eyes.  This  seal 
greatly  added  to  their  beauty,  for  it  was  an  orna- 
ment to  their  faces.  It  also  added  to  their  gravity, 
and  made  their  countenances  more  like  those  of 
angels. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again  to  the  damsel  that 
waited  upon  these  women,  Go  into  the  vestry,  and 
fetch  out  garments  for  these  people.  So  she  went 
and  fetched  out  white  raiment,  and  laid  it  down  be- 
fore him  ;  so  he  commanded  them  to  put  it  on  :  it 
was  "  fine  linen,  white  and  clean."  When  the 
women  were  thus  adorned,  they  seemed  to  be  a  ter- 
ror one  to  the  other ;  for  that  they  could  not  see  that 
glory  each  one  had  in  herself,  which  they  could  see 
in  each  other.  Now,  therefore  they  began  to  esteem 
each  other  better  than  themselves.  For,  You  are 
fairer  than  I  am,  said  one ;  and,  You  are  more 
comely  than  I  am,  said  another.  The  children  also 
stood  amazed,  to  see  into  what  fashion  they  were 
brought. 

The  Interpreter  then  called  for  a  man-servant  of 
his,  one  Great-heart,  and  bid  him  take  a  sword  and 
helmet,  and  shield  ;  And  take  these  my  daughters, 
said  he  ;  conduct  them  to  the  house  called  Beautiful, 
at  which  place  they  will  rest  next.  So  he  took  his 
1  Ex.  xiii.  8-10. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  337 

weapons,  and  went  before  them  ;  and  the  Interpreter 
said,  God  speed. 

Those  also  that  belonged  to  the  fiimily  sent  them 
away  with  many  a  good  wish.  So  they  went  on 
their  way,  and  sang — 

This  place  hath  been  our  second  stage  : 

Here  we  have  heard  and  seen 
Those  good  things,  that  from  age  to  age 

To  others  hid  have  been. 

The  dunghill-raker,  spider,  hen. 

The  chicken,  too,  to  me 
Have  taught  a  lesson  :  let  me  then 

Conformed  to  it  be. 

The  butcher,  garden,  and  the  field, 

The  robin  and  his  bait. 
Also  the  rotten  tree,  doth  yield 

Me  argument  of  weight ; 

To  move  me  for  to  watch  and  pray. 

To  strive  to  be  sincere  : 
To  take  my  cross  up  day  by  day. 

And  serve  the  Lord  with  fear. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  went  on,  and 
Great-heart  before  them  ;  so  they  went,  and  came 
to  the  place  where  Christian's  bnrden  fell  oil'  his 
back,  and  tumbled  into  a  sepulchre.  Here  then  they 
made  a  pause  ;  here  also  they  blessed  God.  Now, 
said  Christiana,  it  comes  to  my  anind  what  was  said 
22 


338  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

to  us  at  the  gate,  to  wit,  that  we  should  have  pardon 
by  word  and  deed  ;  by  word,  that  is,  by  the  promise  ; 
bv  deed,  to  wit,  in  the  way  it  was  obtained.  What 
the  promise  is,  of  that  I  know  something  :  but  what 
it  is  to  have  pardon  by  deed,  or  in  the  way  that  it 
was  obtained,  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  suppose  you  know  ; 
wherefore,  if  you  please,  let  us  hear  your  discourse 
thereof. 

Great.  Pardon  by  the  deed  done,  is  pardon  ob- 
tained by  some  one  for  another  that  hath  need 
thereof:  not  by  the  person  pardoned,  but  in  the  way, 
saith  another,  in  which  I  have  obtained  it.  So  then, 
to  speak  to  the  question  more  at  large,  the  pardon 
that  you,  and  Mercy,  and  these  boys  have  attained, 
was  obtained  by  another  ;  to  wit,  by  him  that  let  you 
in  at  the  gate  :  and  he  hath  obtained  it  in  this  double 
way:  he  hath  performed  righteousness  to  cover  you, 
and  spilt  his  blood  to  wash  you  in. 

Chr.  But  if  he  parts  with  his  righteousness  to  us, 
what  will  he  have  for  himself? 

Great.  He  hath  more  righteousness  than  you 
have  need  of,  or  than  he  needeth  himself. 

Chr.  Pray  make  that  appear. 

Great.  With  all  my  heart:  but  first  I  inust  pre- 
mise, that  He,  of  whom  we  are  now  about  to  speak, 
is  one  that  has  not  his  fellow.  He  has  two  natures 
in  one  person,  plain   to  be  distinguished,  impossible 


THE  PTLGRnrS  PROGRESS.  339 

to  be  divided.  Unto  each  of  these  natures  a  ight- 
eousness  belongeth,  and  each  righteousness  is  essen- 
tial to  that  nature.  So  that  one  may  as  easily  cause 
the  natures  to  be  extinct,  as  to  separate  its  justice  or 
righteousness  from  it.  Of  these  righteousnesses, 
therefore,  we  are  not  made  partakers,  so  as  that  they, 
or  any  of  them,  should  be  put  upon  us,  that  we 
might  be  made  just,  and  live  thereby.  Besides 
these,  there  is  a  righteousness  which  this  person  has, 
as  these  two  natures  are  joined  in  one.  And  this  is 
not  the  righteousness  of  the  Godhead,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  manhood  ;  nor  the  righteousness 
of  the  manhood,  as  distinguished  from  the  Godhead  ; 
but  a  righteousness  which  standeth  in  the  union  of 
both  natures,  and  may  properly  be  called  the  right- 
eousness that  is  essential  to  his  being  prepared  of 
God  to  the  capacity  of  the  mediatory  office,  which 
he  was  entrusted  with.  If  he  parts  with  his  first 
righteousness,  he  parts  with  his  Godhead :  if  he 
parts  with  his  second  righteousness,  he  parts  with 
the  purity  of  his  manhood  :  if  he  parts  with  his 
third,  he  parts  with  that  perfection  which  capacitates 
him  for  the  office  of  mediation. 

He  has  thei^efore  another  righteousness,  which 
standeth  in  performance,  or  obedience  to  a  revealed 
will :  and  that  is  what  he  puts  upon  sinners,  and 
that  by  which  their  sins  are  covered.     Wherefore  he 


340  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

saith,  "As  by  one  man's  disobedience  many  were 
made  sinners ;  so  by  the  obedience  of  o:ie  shall 
many  be  made  righteous."  ^ 

Chr.  But  are  the  other  righteousnesses  of  no  use 
to  us? 

Great.  Yes  ;  for  though  they  are  essential  to  his 
natures  and  offices,  and  cannot  be  communicated 
unto  another,  yet  it  is  by  virtue  of  them  that  the 
righteousness  that  justifies  is  for  that  purpose  effica- 
cious. The  righteousness  of  his  Godhead  gives 
virtue  to  his  obedience ;  the  righteousness  of  his 
manhood  giveth  capability  to  his  obedience  to  jus- 
tify ;  and  the  righteousness  that  standeth  in  the  union 
of  these  two  natures  to  his  office,  giveth  authority  to 
that  righteousness  to  do  the  w^ork  for  which  it  was 
ordained. 

So  then  here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as 
God,  has  no  need  of;  for  he  is  God  without  it. 
Here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  man,  has 
no  need  of  to  make  him  so,  for  he  is  perfect  man 
without  it.  Again,  here  is  a  righteousness  that 
Christ,  as  God-man,  has  no  need  of,  for  he  is  per- 
fectly so  without  it.  Here  then  is  a  righteousness 
that  Christ,  as  God,  and  as  God-man,  has  no  need  of, 
with  reference  to  himself,  and  therefore  he  can  spare 
it ;  a  justifying  righteousness,  that  ae  for  himself 
1  Rom.  V.  19. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  34I 

wanteth  not,  and  therefore  giveth  it  away.  Hence 
it  is  called  "  the  gift  of  righteousness."  This  riglit- 
eousness,  since  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord  has  made  him- 
self under  the  law,  must  be  given  away  ;  for  tlie  law 
doth  not  only  bind  him  that  is  under  it,  to  do  justly, 
but  to  use  charity.  Wherefore  he  must,  or  ought  by 
the  law,  if  he  hath  two  coats,  to  give  one  to  him  that 
has  none.  Now,  our  Lord  indeed  hath  two  coats, 
one  for  himself,  and  one  to  spare :  wherefore  he 
freely  bestows  one  upon  those  that  have  none.  And 
thus,  Christiana  and  Mercy,  and  the  rest  of  you  that 
are  here,  doth  your  pardon  come  by  deed,  or  by  the 
work  of  another  man.  Your  Lord  Christ  is  he  that 
worked,  and  hath  given  awa}'  what  he  wrought  for, 
to  the  next  poor  beggar  he  meets. 

But  again,  in  order  to  pardon  by  deed,  there  must 
something  be  paid  to  God  as  a  price,  as  well  as 
something  prepared  to  cover  us  withal.  Sin  has  de- 
livered us  up  to  the  just  curse  of  a  righteous  law : 
now  from  this  curse  we  must  be  justified  by  way  of 
redemption,  a  price  being  paid  for  the  harms  we 
have  done  ;  and  this  is  by  the  blood  of  your  Lord, 
who  came  and  stood  in  your  place  and  stead,  and 
died  your  death  for  your  transgressions.  Thus  has 
he  ransomed  you  from  your  transgressions  by  blood, 
and  covered  your  polluted  and  deformed  souls  with 


342  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

righteousness;^  for  the  sake  of  which,  God  passeth 
by  you,  and  will  not  hurt  you  when  he  comes  to 
judge  the  world. 

Chr.  This  is  brave  :  now  I  see  that  there  was 
something  to  be  learned  by  our  being  pardoned  by 
word  and  deed.  Good  Mercy,  let  us  labour  to  keep 
this  in  mind  ;  and,  my  children,  do  you  remember  it 
also.  But,  sir,  was  not  this  it  that  made  my  good 
Christian's  burden  fall  from  oft'  his  shoulders,  and 
that  made  him  give  three  leaps  for  joy.? 

Great.  Yes,  it  was  the  belief  of  this  that  cut 
those  strings,  that  could  not  be  cut  by  other  means ; 
and  it  was  to  give  him  a  proof  of  the  virtue  of  this, 
that  he  was  suffered  to  carry  his  burden  to  the  cross. 

Chr.  I  thought  so ;  for  though  my  heart  was 
lightsome  and  joyous  before,  yet  it  is  ten  times  more 
lightsome  and  joyous  now.  And  I  am  persuaded 
by  what  I  have  felt  (though  I  have  felt  but  little  as 
yet),  that  if  the  most  burdened  man  in  the  world 
was  here,  and  did  see  and  believe  as  I  now  do,  it 
would  make  his  heart  the  more  merry  and  blithe. 

Great.  There  is  not  only  comfort,  and  the  ease 
of  a  burden  brought  to  us,  by  the  sight  and  consider- 
ation of  these,  but  an  endeared  affection  begot  in  us 
by  it;  for  who  can  (if  he  doth  but  once  think  that 
pard:)n  comes  not  only  by  promise,  but  thus),  but 
1  Rom.  vii    34;  Gal  iii.  13. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  343 

be  affected  with  the  way  and  means  of  his  redemp- 
tion, and  so  with  the  man  that  hath  wrought  it  for 
him. 

Chr.  Trie  :  methinks  it  makes  my  heart  bleed  to 
think  that  he  should  bleed  for  me.  Oh,  thou  loving 
One!  Oh,  thou  blessed  One!  Thou  deservest  to 
have  me  ;  thou  hast  bought  me  ;  thou  deservest  to 
have  me  all  ;  thou  hast  paid  for  me  ten  thousand 
times  more  than  I  am  worth  !  No  marvel  that  this 
made  the  tears  stand  in  my  husband's  eyes,  and  that 
it  made  him  trudge  so  nimbly  on  :  I  am  persuaded 
he  wished  me  with  him  ;  but,  vile  wretch  that  I  was, 
I  let  him  come  all  alone.  O  Mercy,  that  thy  father 
and  mother  were  here  ;  yea,  and  Mrs.  Timorous 
also :  nay,  I  wish  now  with  all  my  heart  that  here 
was  Madam  Wanton  too.  Surely,  surely  their 
hearts  would  be  affected  ;  nor  could  the  fear  of  the 
one,  nor  the  powerful  lusts  of  the  other,  prevail  with 
them  to  go  home  again,  and  refuse  to  become  good 
pilgrims. 

Great.  You  speak  now  in  the  warmth  of  your 
affections  :  will  it,  think  you,  be  always  thus  witli 
vou .''  Besides,  this  is  not  communicated  to  every 
one,  nor  to  every  one  that  did  see  your  Jesus  bleed. 
There  were  that  stood  by,  and  that  saw  the  blood 
run  from  his  heart  to  the  ground,  and  yet  were  so  far 
off'  th  s,  th  it    instead  of  lamenting,  they  laughed  at 


344  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

him  ;  and,  instead  of  becoming  his  disciples,  did 
hai'den  their  hearts  against  him.  So  that  all  that 
you  ha>e,  my  daughters,  you  have  by  peculiar  im- 
pression made  by  a  divine  contemplating  upon  what 
I  have  spoken  to  you.  Remember,  that  it  was  told 
you,  that  the  hen,  by  her  common  call,  gives  no 
meat  to  her  chickens.  This  you  have  therefore  by  a 
special  grace. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  until 
they  were  come  to  the  place  that  Simple,  and 
Sloth,  and  Presumption  lay  and  slept  in,  when 
Christian  went  by  on  pilgrimage :  and,  behold,  they 
were  hanged  up  in  irons  a  little  way  oft' on  the  other 
side. 

Then  said  Mercy  to  him  that  was  their  guide  and 
conductor.  What  are  these  three  men.'*  and  for  what 
are  they  hanged  there  .^ 

Great.  These  three  men  were  men  of  bad  quali- 
ties ;  they  had  no  mind  to  be  pilgrims  themselves, 
and  whomsoever  they  could  they  hindei"ed :  they 
were  sloth  and  folly  themselves,  and  whomsoever 
they  could  persuade  they  made  so  too  ;  and  withal 
taught  them  to  presume  that  they  should  do  well  at 
last.  They  were  asleep  when  Christian  went  by  ; 
and  now  you  go  by,  they  are  hanged. 

Mer.  But  could  they  persuade  any  to  be  of  their 
opinion.'' 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  345 

Great.  Yes,  they  turned  several  out  of  the  wav. 
There  was  Slow-pace,  that  they  persuaded  to  do  as 
they.  They  also  prevailed  with  one  Short-wind, 
with  one  No-heart,  with  one  Linger-after-lust,  and 
with  one  Sleej^y-head,  and  with  a  young  woman,  her 
name  was  Dull,  to  turn  out  of  the  way,  and  become 
as  they.  Besides,  they  brought  up  an  ill  report  of 
your  Lord  persuading  others  that  he  was  a  hard 
taskmaster  They  also  brought  up  an  evil  report  of 
the  good  land,  saying.  It  was  not  half  so  good  as 
some  pretended  it  was.  They  also  began  to  vilify 
his  servants,  and  to  count  the  best  of  them  meddle- 
some, troublesome  busybodies :  further,  they  would 
call  the  bread  of  God,  husks  ;  the  comforts  of  his 
children,  fancies;  the  travail  and  labour  of  pilgrims, 
things  to  no  purpose. 

Nay,  said  Christiana,  if  they  were  such,  they 
should  never  be  bewailed  by  me :  they  have  but 
what  they  deserve  ;  and  I  think  it  is  well  that  they 
stand  so  near  the  highway,  that  others  may  see  and 
take  warning.  But  had  it  not  been  well  if  their 
crimes  had  been  engraven  in  some  plate  of  iron  or 
brass,  and  left  here  where  they  did  their  mischiefs, 
for  a  caution  to  other  bad  men  ? 

Great.  So  it  is,  as  you  may  well  perceive,  if  you 
will  go  a  little  to  the  wall. 

Meh    No,   no;  let  them  hang,   and  their  names 


34^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

rot,  and  (heir  crimes  live  for  ever  against  them  :  I 
think  it  is  a  higii  favour  that  they  were  hanged  afore 
we  came  hither ;  who  knows  else  what  they  might 
have  done  to  such  poor  women  as  we  are?  Then 
she  turned  it  into  a  song,  saying — 

Now  then  you  three  hang  there  and  be  a  sign 
To  all  that  shall  against  the  truth  combine. 
And  let  him  that  comes  after  fear  this  end, 
If  unto  pilgrims  he  is  not  a  friend. 
And  thou,  my  soul,  of  all  such  men  beware, 
That  unto  holiness  opposers  are. 

Thus  they  went  on,  till  they  came  to  the  foot  of 
1  »e  hill  Difficulty,  where  again  the  good  Mr.  Great- 
1  eart  took  an  occasion  to  tell  them  what  happened 
f  lere  when  Christian  himself  went  by.  So  he  had 
t-.em  first  to  the  spring.  Lo,  said  he,  this  is  the 
Spring  that  Christian  drank  of  before  he  went  up 
this  hill  ;  and  then  it  was  clear  and  good,  but  now 
it  ss  dirty  with  the  feet  of  some  that  are  not  desirous 
that  pilgrims  here  should  quench  their  thirst.^ 
Thereat  Mercy  said.  And  why  so  envious,  trow.'' 
But  said  their  guide.  It  will  do,  if  taken  up  and  put 
into  a  vessel  that  is  sweet  and  good  ;  for  then  the 
dirt  will  sink  to  the  bottom,  and  the  water  come  out 
by  itsel  more  clear.  Thus,  therefore,  Christiana 
'  Ezek.  xxxiv.  i8. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  347 

and  her  companions  were  compelled  to  do.  They 
took  it  up,  and  put  it  into  an  earthen  pot,  and  so  let 
it  stand  till  the  dirt  was  gone  to  the  bottom,  and  then 
they  drank  thereof. 

Next  he  showed  them  the  two  by-ways  that  were 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  Formality  and  Hypoc- 
risy lost  themselves.  And,  said  he,  these  are  dan- 
gerous paths :  two  were  here  cast  away  when  Chris- 
tian came  by.  And  although,  as  you  see,  these 
ways  are  since  stopped  up  with  chains,  posts,  and 
a  ditch,  yet  there  are  those  that  will  chose  to  ad- 
venture here,  rather  than  take  the  pains  to  go  up  this 
hill. 

Chr.  "  The  way  of  transgressors  is  hard  :" '  it  is 
a  wonder  that  they  can  get  into  these  ways  without 
danger  of  breaking  their  necks. 

Great.  They  will  venture  ;  yea,  if  at  any  time 
any  of  the  King's  servants  do  happen  to  see  them, 
and  do  call  upon  them,  and  tell  them  that  they  are 
in  the  wrong  way,  and  do  bid  them  beware  of  the 
danger,  then  they  railingly  return  them  answer,  and 
say,  "  As  for  the  word  that  thou  hast  spoken  unto  us 
in  the  name  of  the  King,  we  will  not  hearken  unto 
thee ;  but  we  will  certainly  do  whatsoever  thing 
goeth  out  of  our  own  mouth."  ^  Nay,  if  you  look  a 
li'tle  further,  you  shall  see  that  these  ways  are  made 
'  Prov.  xiii.  15.  2  j^^.  xliv.  16,  17. 


34^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

cautionary  enough,  not  only  by  these  posts,  and 
ditch,  and  chain,  but  also  by  being  hedged  up  ;  yet 
they  will  choose  to  go  there, 

Chr.  They  are  idle  ;  they  love  not  to  take  pains  ; 
up-hill  way  is  unpleasant  to  them.  So  it  is  fulfilled 
unto  them  as  it  is  written,  "  The  way  of  the  sloth- 
ful man  is  an  hedge  of  thorns."^  Yea,  they  will 
rather  choose  to  walk  jpon  a  snare,  than  to  go  up 
this  hill,  and  the  rest  of  this  way  to  the  city. 

Then  they  set  forward,  and  began  to  go  up  the 
hill,  and  up  the  hill  they  went ;  but  before  they  got 
to  the  top,  Christiana  began  to  pant,  and  said,  I  dare 
say  this  is  a  breathing  hill  ;  no  marvel  if  they  that 
love  their  ease  more  than  their  souls  choose  to  them- 
selves a  smoother  way.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  must 
sit  down  ;  also  the  least  of  the  children  began  to 
cry.  Come,  come,  said  Great-heart,  sit  not  down 
here,  for  a  little  above  is  the  Prince's  arbour.  Then 
he  took  the  little  boy  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  up 
thereto. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  arbour,  they  were 
very  willing  to  sit  down,  for  they  were  all  in  a  pelt- 
ing heat.  Then  said  Mercy,  How  sweet  is  rest  to 
them  that  labour  !^  And  how  good  is  the  Prince  of 
pilgrims,  to  provide  <uch  resting-places  for  them  ! 
Of  this  arbour  I  have  leard  much  ;  but  I  never  saw 
Prov  XV.  19.  2  Matt.  xi.  28. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  349 

it  before.  But  here  let  us  beware  of  sleeping ;  for 
as  I  liave  heard,  it  cost  poor  Christian  dear. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  little  ones, 
Come,  my  pretty  boys,  how  do  you  do.-*  What 
think  you  now  of  going  on  pilgrimage.''  Sir,  said 
the  least,  I  was  almost  beat  out  of  heart ;  but  I  thank 
you  for  lending  me  a  hand  at  my  need.  And  I  re- 
member now  what  my  mother  hath  told  me,  namely, 
that  the  way  to  heaven  is  as  a  ladder,  and  the  way 
to  hell  is  as  down  a  hill.  But  I  had  rather  go  up 
the  ladder  to  life,  than  down  the  hill  to  death. 

Then  said  Mercy,  But  the  proverb  is,  "  To  go 
down  the  hill  is  easy."  But  James  said  (for  that 
was  his  name),  The  day  is  coming,  when,  in  my 
opinion,  going  down  the  hill  will  be  the  hardest  of 
all.  'Tis  a  good  boy,  said  his  master ;  thou  hast 
given  her  a  right  answer.  Then  Mercy  smiled,  but 
the  little  boy  did  blush. 

Come,  said  Christiana,  will  you  eat  a  bit,  to 
sweeten  your  mouths,  while  you  sit  here  to  rest  your 
legs.?  For  I  have  here  a  piece  of  pomegranate, 
which  Mr.  Interpreter  put  into  my  hand  just  when 
I  came  out  of  his  door  ;  he  gave  me  also  a  piece  of 
an  honey-comb,  and  a  little  bottle  of  spirits. 

I  thought  he  gave  you  something,  said  Mercy,  be- 
cause he  called  you  aside. 

Yes,  so  he  did,  said  the  other.      But,  said  Chris- 


35°  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

tiana,  it  shall  be  still  as  I  said  it  should,  when  at 
first  we  came  from  home  ;  thou  shitlt  be  a  sharer  iti 
all  the  good  that  I  have,  because  thou  so  willingl)^ 
didst  become  my  companion. 

Then  she  gave  to  them,  and  they  did  eat,  both 
Mercy  and  the  boys.  And  said  Christiana  to  Mr. 
Great-heart,  Sir,  will  you  do  as  we.?  But  he  an- 
swered, You  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  and  pres- 
ently I  shall  return  :  much  good  may  what  you  have 
do  you  !     At  home  I  eat  the  same  every  day. 

Now  when  they  had  eaten  and  drunk,  and  had 
chatted  a  little  longer,  their  guide  said  to  them.  The 
day  wears  away  ;  if  you  think  good,  let  us  prepare 
to  be  going.  So  they  got  up  to  go,  and  the  little 
boys  went  before  ;  but  Christiana  forgot  to  take  her 
bottle  of  spirits  with  her,  so  she  sent  her  little  boy 
back  to  fetch  it.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  this  is  a 
losing  place.  Here  Christian  lost  his  roll ;  and  here 
Christiana  left  her  bottle  behind  her.  Sir,  what  is 
the  cause  of  this.?  So  their  guide  made  answer, 
and  said.  The  cause  is  sleep  or  forgetfulness :  some 
sleep  when  they  should  keep  awake,  and  some  for- 
get when  they  should  remember ;  and  this  is  the 
very  cause  why  often,  at  the  resting-places,  some 
pilgrims  in  some  things  come  off  losers.  Pilgrims 
should  watch,  and  remember  what  they  have  already 
received  under  their  greatest  enjoyments ;    but   for 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  35 1 

want  of  doing  so,  oftentimes  their  rejoicing  ends  in 
tears,  and  their  sunshine  in  a  cloud ;  witness  the 
story  of  Christian  at  this  place. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous  met  Christian  to  persuade  him 
to  go  back  for  fear  of  the  lions,  they  perceived  as  it 
were  a  stage,  and  before  it,  towards  the  road,  a 
broad  plate,  with  a  copy  of  verses  written  thereon  ; 
and,  underneath,  the  reason  of  raising  up  of  that 
stage  in  that  place  rendered.     The  verses  were — 

Let  him  that  sees  this  stage,  take  heed 

Unto  his  heart  and  tongue  ; 
Lest,  if  he  do  not,  here  he  speed 

As  some  have  long  agone. 

The  words  underneath  the  verses  were,  This  stage 
was  built  to  punish  those  upon,  who,  through  timor- 
ousness  or  mistrust,  shall  be  afraid  to  go  further  on 
pilgrimage :  also  on  this  stage  both  Mistrust  and 
Timorous  were  burnt  through  the  tongue  with  a  hot 
iron,  for  endeavouring  to  hinder  Christian  on  his 
journey. 

Then  said  Mercy,  This  is  much  like  to  the  saying 

of  the  Beloved  :  "  What  shall  be  given  unto  thee,  or 

what   shall  be  done  unto  thee,  thou  false  tongue.? 

Sharp  arrows  of  the  mighty,  with  coals  of  juniper."* 

'  Ps.  cxx.  3,  4- 


352  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So  they  went  on,  till  they  came  within  sight  of  the 
lions.  Now  Mr.  Great-heart  was  a  strong  man,  so 
he  was  not  afraid  of  a  lion  :  but  yet  when  they  were 
come  up  to  the  place  where  the  lions  were,  the  boys 
that  went  before  were  now  glad  to  cringe  behind, 
for  they  were  afraid  of  the  lions ;  so  they  stept  back, 
and  went  behind.  At  this  their  guide  smiled,  and 
said.  How  now,  my  boys  ;  do  you  love  to  go  before 
when  no  danger  doth  approach,  and  love  to  come 
behind  so  soon  as  the  lions  appear.'' 

Now,  as  they  went  on,  Mr.  Great-heart  drew  his 
sword,  with  intent  to  make  a  way  for  the  pilgrims 
in  spite  of  the  lions.  Then  there  appeared  one,  that 
it  seems  had  taken  upon  him  to  back  the  lions ;  and 
he  said  to  the  pilgrims'  guide,  What  is  the  cause  of 
your  coming  hither.''  Now,  the  name  of  that  man 
was  Grim,  or  Bloody-man,  because  of  his  slaying 
of  pilgrims :  and  he  was  of  the  race  of  the  giants. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims'  guide.  These  women  and 
children  are  going  on  pilgrimage  ;  and  this  is  the 
way  they  must  go  ;  and  go  it  they  shall,  in  spite  of 
thee  and  the  lions. 

Grim.  This  is  not  their  way,  neither  shall  they  go 
therein.  I  am  come  forth  to  withstand  them,  and  to 
that  end  will  back  the  lions. 

Now,  to  say  truth,  by  reason  of  the  fierceness  of 
the  lions,  and  of  the  grim  carriage  of  him  that  did 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  353 

back  them,  this  way  had  of  hUe  lain  much  unoccu- 
pied, and  was  almost  grown  over  with  grass. 

Then  said  Christiana,  Though  the  highways  have 
been  unoccupied  heretofore,  and  though  the  travel- 
lers have  been  made  in  times  past  to  walk  througli 
by-paths,  it  must  not  be  so  now  I  am  risen,  "  now  I 
am  risen  a  mother  in  Israel."  ^ 

Then  he  swore  by  the  lions,  that  it  should  :  and 
therefore  bid  them  turn  aside,  for  they  should  not 
have  passage  there. 

But  Great-heart  their  guide  made  first  his  approach 
unto  Grim,  and  laid  so  heavily  on  him  with  his 
sword,  that  he  forced  him  to  retreat. 

Then  said  he  that  attempted  to  back  the  lions, 
Will  you  slay  me  upon  my  own  ground.' 

Great.  It  is  the  King's  highway  that  we  are  in, 
and  in  this  way  it  is  that  thou  hast  placed  the  lions; 
but  these  women  and  these  children,  thougli  weak, 
shall  hold  on  their  way  in  spite  of  thy  lions.  And 
with  that  he  gave  him  again  a  downright  blow,  and 
brought  him  upon  his  knees.  With  this  blow  also 
he  broke  his  helmet,  and  with  the  next  he  cut  oft'  an 
arm.  Then  did  the  giant  roar  so  hideously,  that  his 
voice  frighted  the  women  ;  and  yet  they  were  glad 
to  see  him  lie  sprawling  upon  the  ground.  Now  the 
lions  were  chained,  and  so  of  themselves  could  do 

Judg.  V.  6,  7. 
23 


354  ^^-S  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

nothing.  Wherefore,  when  old  Grim,  that  hitended 
to  back  them,  was  dead,  Mr.  Great-heart  said  to  the 
pilgrims,  Come  now,  and  follow  me,  and  no  hurt 
shall  happen  to  you  from  the  lions.  They  therefore 
went  on,  but  the  women  trembled  as  they  passed  by 
them  ;  the  boys  also  looked  as  if  they  would  die  . 
but  they  all  got  by  without  further  hurt. 

Now,  when  they  were  within  sight  of  tlie  Porter's 
lodge,  they  soon  came  up  unto  it ;  but  they  made 
the  more  haste  after  this  to  go  thither,  because  it  is 
dangerous  travelling  there  in  the  night.  So  when 
they  were  come  to  the  gate,  the  guide  knocked,  and 
the  Porter  cried.  Who  is  there.''  But  as  soon  as  the 
guide  had  said,  It  is  I,  he  knew  his  voice,  and  came 
down  ;  for  the  guide  had  oft  before  that  come  thither 
as  a  conductor  of  pilgrims.  When  he  was  come 
down,  he  opened  the  gate,  and,  seeing  the  guide 
standing  just  before  it  (for  he  saw  not  the  women, 
for  they  were  behind  him),  he  said  unto  him.  How 
now,  Mr.  Great-heart,  what  is  your  business  here  so 
late  at  night.?  I  have  brought,  said  he,  some  pil- 
grims hither,  where,  by  my  Lord's  commandment, 
they  must  lodge:  I  had  been  here  some  time  ago, 
had  I  not  been  opposed  by  the  giant  that  used  to 
back  the  lions.  But  I,  after  a  long  and  tedious 
combat  with  him,  have  cut  him  oB".  .ind  have  brought 
the  pilgrims  hither  in  salety. 


THE  PILLiUnrS  PROGRESS.  355 

Poll.   Will  you  not  <^o  in  anil  sta)-  till  morning? 

Great.  No;  I  will  return  to  my  Lord  to- 
night. 

Ci£R.  Oh,  sir,  I  know  not  how  to  be  willing  you 
should  leave  us  in  our  pilgrimage  ;  you  have  been  so 
faithful  and  so  loving  to  us,  you  have  fought  so 
stoutly  for  us,  you  have  been  so  hearty  in  counselling 
of  us,  that  I  shall  never  forget  your  favour  towards 
us. 

Then  said  Mercy,  Oh  that  we  might  have  thy 
company  to  our  journey's  end  !  How  can  such  poor 
women  as  we  hold  out  in  a  way  so  full  of  troubles 
as  this  way  is,  without  a  friend  and  defender.'' 

Then  said  James,  the  youngest  of  the  boys,  Pray, 
sir,  be  persuaded  to  go  with  us  and  help  us,  because 
we  are  so  weak,  and  the  way  so  dangerous  as  it  is. 

Great.  I  am  at  my  Lord's  commandment :  if  he 
shall  allot  me  to  be  your  guide  quite  through,  I  will 
willingly  wait  upon  you.  But  here  you  failed  at 
first ;  for  when  he  bid  me  come  thus  far  with  you, 
then  you  should  have  begged  me  of  him  to  have 
gone  quite  through  with  you,  and  he  would  have 
granted  your  request.  However,  at  present  I  must 
withdraw ;  and  so,  good  Christiana,  Mercy,  and  my 
brave  children,  adieu. 

Then  the  Porter,  Mr.  Watchful,  asked  Christiana 
of  her  country,  and  of  her  kindred  :  and   she  said,  I 


35^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

came  from  the  city  of  Destruction  ;  I  am  a  widow- 
woman,  and  my  husband  is  dead  ;  his  name  was 
Christian,  the  pilgrim. 

How !  said  the  Porter,  was  he  your  husband  ? 
Yes,  said  she,  and  these  are  his  children  ;  and  this 
(pointing  to  Mercy)  is  one  of  my  townswomen. 

Then  the  Porter  rang  his  bell,  as  at  such  times  he 
is  wont,  and  there  came  to  the  door  one  of  the  dam- 
sels, whose  name  was  Humble-mind.  iVnd  to  her 
the  Porter  said.  Go,  tell  it  within,  that  Christiana, 
the  wife  of  Christian,  and  her  children  are  come 
hither  on  pilgrimage.  She  went  in,  therefore,  and 
told  it.  But,  oh,  what  noise  for  gladness  was  there 
within,  when  the  damsel  did  but  drop  that  out  of  her 
mouth  ! 

So  they  came  with  haste  to  the  Porter,  for  Chris- 
tiana stood  still  at  the  door.  Then  some  of  the 
most  grave  said  unto  her,  Come  in,  Christiana,  come 
in,  thou  wife  of  that  good  man  ;  come  in,  thou 
blessed  woman,  come  in,  with  all  that  are  with  thee. 
So  she  went  in,  and  they  followed  her  that  were  hei 
children  and  companions.  Now  when  they  were 
gone  in,  they  were  had  into  a  large  room,  where 
they  were  bidden  to  sit  down  :  so  they  sat  down, 
and  the  chief  of  the  house  were  called  to  see  and 
welcome  the  guests.  Then  they  came  in,  and,  un- 
derstanding who  they  were,  did  salute  each  one  with 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  357 

a  kiss,  and  said,  Welcome,  ye  vessels  of  the  grace 
of  God,  welcome  unto  ns  your  friends. 

Now,  because  it  was  somewhat  late,  and  because 
the  pilgrims  were  weary  with  their  journey,  and 
also  made  faint  with  the  sight  of  the  fight  and  of  the 
terrible  lions,  they  desired,  as  soon  as  might  be,  to 
prepare  to  go  to  rest.  Nay,  said  those  of  the  family, 
refresh  yourselves  first  with  a  morsel  of  meat ;  for 
they  had  prepared  for  them  a  lamb,  with  the  accus- 
tomed sauce  belonging  thereto.'  For  the  Porter  had 
heard  before  of  their  coming,  and  had  told  it  to  them 
within.  So  when  they  had  supped,  and  ended  their 
prayer  with  a  psalm,  they  desired  they  might  go  to 
rest. 

But  let  us,  said  Christiana,  if  we  may  be  so  bold 
as  to  choose,  be  in  that  cliamber  that  was  my  hus- 
band's when  he  was  here.  So  they  had  them  up 
thither,  and  they  all  lay  in  a  room.  When  they 
were  at  rest,  Christiana  and  Mercy  entered  into  dis- 
course about  tilings  that  were  convenient. 

Chr.  Little  did  I  think  once,  when  my  husband 
went  on  pilgrimage,  that  I  should  ever  have  followed 
him. 

Mer.  And  you  as  little  thought  of  lying  in  his 
bed,  and  in  his  chamber  to  rest  as  you  do  now. 

Chr.  And  much  less  did  I  ever  think  of  seeing 
1  Ex.  xii.  3  ;  John  i.  29. 


358  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

his  face  with  comfort,  and  of  worshipping  the  I  ord 
the  King  with  him  ;  and  yet  now  I  believe  I  shall. 

Mer.   Hark,  don't  you  hear  a  noise? 

Chr.  Yes,  'tis,  as  I  believe,  a  noise  of  music,  for 
joy  that  we  are  here. 

Mer.  Wonderful !  Music  in  the  house,  music  in 
the  heart,  and  music  also  in  heaven,  for  joy  that  we 
are  here ! 

Thus  they  talked  a  while,  and  then  betook  them- 
selves to  sleep.  So  in  the  morning,  when  they  were 
awaked,  Christiana  said  to  Mercy,  What  was  the 
matter,  that  you  did  laugh  in  your  sleep  to-night?  I 
suppose  you  were  in  a  dream. 

Mer.  So  I  was,  and  a  sweet  dream  it  was  ;  but 
are  you  sure  I  laughed  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  you  laughed  heartily:  but  pr'ythee, 
Mercy,  tell  me  thy  dream. 

Mer.  I  was  dreaming  that  I  sat  all  alone  in  a 
solitary  place,  and  was  bemoaning  of  the  hardness 
of  my  heart.  Now,  I  had  not  sat  there  long,  but 
methought  many  were  gathered  about  me  to  see 
me,  and  to  hear  what  it  was  that  I  said.  So  they 
hearkened,  and  I  went  on  bemoaning  the  hardness 
of  my  heart.  At  this  some  of  them  laughed  at  me, 
some  called  me  a  fool,  and  some  began  to  thrust  me 
about. 

With  that,  methought  I  looked  up,  and  saw  one 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS.  359 

coming  with  wings  towards  nic.  So  he  came  di- 
rectly to  me.  and  said,  Mercy,  what  aileth  thee? 
Now,  when  he  liad  heard  me  make  mv  comphiint, 
he  said,  Peace  be  to  thee  :  he  also  wiped  mine  eyes 
with  his  handkerchief,  and  clad  me  in  silver  and 
gold.  He  put  a  chain  about  my  neck,  and  ear-rings 
in  mine  ears,  and  a  beautiful  crown  upon  my  head.' 

Then  he  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  said,  Mercy, 
come  after  me.  So  he  went  up,  and  I  followed,  till 
we  came  at  a  golden  gate.  Then  he  knocked  ;  and, 
when  they  within  had  opened,  the  man  went  in,  and 
I  followed  him  up  to  a  throne,  upon  which  one  sat, 
and  he  said  to  me,  Welcome,  daughter.  The  place 
looked  bright  and  twinkling,  like  the  stars,  or  rather 
like  the  sun,  and  I  thougiit  that  I  saw  your  husband 
there.  So  I  awoke  from  my  dream.  But  did  I 
laugh  ? 

Chr.  Laugh  !  ay,  and  well  you  might,  to  see 
yourself  so  well.  For  you  must  give  me  leave  to 
tell  you,  that  it  was  a  good  dream  ;  and  that  as  you 
have  begun  to  find  the  first  part  true,  so  you  shall 
find  the  second  at  last.  "  God  speaks  once,  yea 
twice,  yet  man  perceiveth  it  not ;  in  a  dream,  in  a 
vision  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon 
men,  in  slumbering  upon  the  bed."^  We  need  not, 
when  a-bed,  to  lie  awake  to  talk  with  God  ;  he  can 
1  Ezek.  xvi.  8-13.  ^  Job.  xxxiil  14-16. 


360  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

visit  us  while  we  sleep,  and  cause  us  then  to  hear 
his  voice.  Our  heart  oftentimes  wakes  when  we 
sleep  ;  and  God  can  speak  to  that,  either  by  words, 
by  proverbs,  by  signs  and  similitudes,  as  well  as  if 
one  was  awake. 

Mer.  Well,  I  am  glad  of  my  dream,  for  I  hope 
ere  long  to  see  it  fulfilled,  to  the  making  of  me  laugh 
again. 

Chr.  I  think  it  is  now  high  time  to  rise,  and  to 
know  what  we  must  do. 

Mer.  Pray,  if  they  invite  us  to  stay  a  while,  let 
us  willingly  accept  of  the  proffer.  I  am  the  will- 
inger  to  stay  a  while  here,  to  grow  better  acquainted 
with  these  maids  :  methinks  Prudence,  Piety,  and 
Charity  have  very  comely  and  sober  countenances. 

Chr.  We  shall  see  what  they  will  do. 

So  when  they  were  up  and  ready,  they  came 
down,  and  they  asked  one  another  of  their  rest,  and 
if  it  was  comfortable  or  not? 

Very  good,  said  Mercy  ;  it  was  one  of  the  best 
night's  lodgings  that  ever  I  had  in  my  life. 

Then  said  Prudence  and  Piety,  If  you  will  be  per- 
suaded to  stay  here  a  while,  you  shall  have  what  the 
house  will  afford. 

x\y,  and  that  with  a  very  good  will,  said  Charity. 

So  they  consented,  and  stayed  there  about  a  month 
or  above,  and  became  very  profitable  one  to  another. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  36 1 

And,  because  Friulence  would  see  how  Christiana 
had  brought  up  her  children,  she  asked  leave  of  her 
to  catechise  them  :  so  she  gave  her  free  consent. 
Then  she  began  with  the  youngest,  whose  name  was 
James. 

And  she  said,  Come,  James,  canst  thou  tell  me 
who  made  thee? 

James.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy.  And  canst  thou  tell  who  saved 
thee  } 

James.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy  still.  But  how  doth  God  the 
Father  save  thee? 

James.  By  his  grace. 

Prud.  How  doth  God  the  Son  save  thee  ? 

James.  By  his  righteousness,  death,  and  blood, 
and  life. 

Prud.  And  how  doth  God  the  Holy  Ghost  save 
thee  ? 

James.  By  his  illumination,  by  his  renovation,  and 
by  his  preservation. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Christiana,  You  are  to  be 
commended  for  thus  bringing  up  your  children.  I 
suppose  I  need  not  ask  the  rest  these  questions,  since 
the   youngest  of   them   can    answer  them    so    well. 


3^2  THE  PILGRIM'S  .PROGRESS. 

I  will  therefore  now  apply  myself  to  the  next 
youngest. 

Then  she  said,  Come,  Joseph  (for  his  name  was 
Joseph),  will  you  let  me  catechise  you? 

Jos.  With  all  my  heart. 

Prud.  What  is  man  ? 

Jos.  A  reasonable  creature,  so  made  by  God,  as 
my  brother  said. 

Prud.  What  is  supposed  by  this  word,  saved.'' 

Jos.  That  man  by  sin  has  brought  himself  into  a 
state  of  captivity  and  misery. 

Prud.  What  is  supposed  by  his  being  saved  by 
the  Trinity.'' 

Jos.  That  sin  is  so  great  and  mighty  a  tyrant,  that 
none  can  pull  us  out  of  its  clutches  but  God  ;  and 
that  God  is  so  good  and  loving  to  man,  as  to  pull 
him  indeed  out  of  this  miserable  state. 

Prud.  What  is  God's  design  in  saving  poor 
men  } 

Jos.  The  glorifying  of  his  name,  of  his  grace,  and 
justice,  etc.,  and  the  everlasting  happiness  of  his 
creature. 

Prud.  Who  are  they  that  must  be  saved.? 

Jos.  Those  that  accept  of  his  salvation. 

Prud.  Good  boy,  Joseph  ;  thy  mother  hath  taught 
thee  well,  and  thou  hast  hearkened  unto  what  she 
has  said  unto  thee. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  363 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Samuel  (who  was  the 
eldest  but  one),  Come,  Samuel,  are  you  willing  that 
I  should  catechise  you  ? 

Sam.  Yes,  forsooth,  if  you  please. 

Prud.  What  is  heaven  ? 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  blessed,  because 
fiod  dwelleth  there. 

Prud.  What  is  hell? 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  woeful,  because  it  is 
the  dwelling-place  of  sin,  the  devil,  and  death, 

Prud.  Why  wouldest  thou  go  to  heaven  ? 

Sam.  That  I  may  see  God,  and  serve  him  with- 
out weariness;  that  I  may  see  Christ,  and  love  him 
everlastingly  ;  that  I  may  have  that  fulness  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  me,  which  I  can  by  no  means  here 
enjoy. 

Prud.  A  very  good  boy,  and  one  that  has  learned 
well. 

Then  she  addressed  herself  to  the  eldest,  whose 
name  was  Matthew;  and  she  said  to  him,  Come, 
Matthew,  shall  I  also  catechise  yow'i 

AIatt.   With  a  very  good  will. 

Prud.  I  ask  then,  if  there  was  ever  anyming  that 
had  a  being  antecedent  to,  or  before,  God.? 

Matt.  No ;  for  God  is  eternal ;  nor  is  there  any- 
thing excepting  himself,  that  had  a  being  until  the 
beginning  of   the  first  day :    "  For  in  six  days  the 


364  THE  PILGRIM'S  Pt^OGRESS. 

Lord  made  heaven  and  earth,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in 
them  is."  ^ 

Prud.  What  do  you  think  of  the  Bible? 

Matt.  It  is  the  holy  word  of  God. 

Prud.  Is  there  nothing  written  therein  but  what 
you  understand  } 

Matt.  Yes,  a  great  deal. 

Prud.  What  do  you  do  when  you  meet  with 
places  therein  that  you  do  not  understand.'' 

Matt.  I  think  God  is  wiser  than  I.  I  pray  also 
that  he  will  please  to  let  me  know  all  therein  that 
he  knows  will  be  for  my  good, 

Prud.  How  believe  30U  as  touching  the  resuijec- 
tion  of  the  dead  } 

Matt.  I  believe  they  shall  rise,  the  same  that  was 
buried  ;  the  same  in  nature,  though  not  in  corrup- 
tion. And  I  believe  this  upon  a  double  account : 
First,  because  God  has  promised  it :  Secondly,  be- 
cause he  is  able  to  perform  it. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  the  boys.  You  must  still 
hearken  to  your  mother,  for  she  can  learn  you  more. 
You  must  also  diligently  give  ear  to  what  good  talk 
you  shall  hear  from  others :  for  your  sakes  do  they 
speak  good  things.  Observe  also,  and  that  with 
carefulness,  what  the  heavens  and  the  earth  do  teach 
vou  ;  1  ut  especially  be  much  in  the  meditation  of 
1  Ex.  XX.  II. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  365 

that  book  which  was  the  cause  of  your  father  s  be- 
coming a  pilgrim.  I,  for  my  part,  my  children,  will 
teach  you  what  I  can  while  you  are  here,  and  shall 
be  glad  if  you  will  ask  me  questions  that  tend  to 
godly  edifying. 

Now,  by  that  these  pilgrims  had  been  at  this  place 
a  week,  Mercy  had  a  visitor  that  pretended  some 
good-will  unto  her,  and  his  name  was  jSIr.  Brisk  ;  a 
man  of  some  breeding,  and  that  pretended  to  re- 
ligion, but  a  man  that  stuck  very  close  to  the  world. 
So  he  came  once  or  twice,  or  more,  to  !Mercy,  and 
offered  love  unto  her. 

Nqw  Mercy  was  of  a  fair  countenance,  and  therefore 
the  more  alluring.  Her  mind  also  was  to  be  always 
busying  of  herself  in  doing;  for  when  she  had  noth- 
ing to  do  for  herself,  she  would  be  making  of  hose 
and  garments  for  others,  and  would  bestow  them 
upon  them  that  had  need.  And  Mr.  Brisk,  not 
knowing  where  or  how  she  disposed  of  what  she 
made,  seemed  to  be  greatly  taken,  for  that  lie  found 
her  never  idle.  I  will  warrant  her  a  good  house- 
wife, quoth  he  to  himself. 

Mercy  then  revealed  the  business  to  the  maidens 
that  were  of  the  house,  and  inquired  of  them  con- 
cerning him,  for  they  did  know  him  better  than  she. 
So  they  told  her,  that  he  was  a  very  busy  young 
man,  and  one  that  pretended  to  religion  ;  but  was, 


366  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

as  they  feared,  a  stranger  to  the  power  of  that  which 
is  good. 

Nay  then,  said  Mercy,  I  will  look  no  more  on 
him  ;  for  I  purpose  never  to  have  a  clog  to  my  soul. 

Prudence  then  replied,  that  there  needed  no  great 
matter  of  discouragement  to  be  given  to  him  ;  for 
continuing  so  as  she  had  begun  to  do  for  the  poor, 
would  quickly  cool  his  courage. 

So  the  next  time  he  comes,  he  finds  her  at  her  old 
w^ork,  a  making  of  things  for  the  poor.  Then  said 
he,  What!  always  at  it.''  Yes,  said  she,  either  for 
myself  or  for  others.  And  what  canst  thou  earn  a 
day.?  quoth  he.  "  I  do  these  things,"  said  she,  "that 
I  may  be  rich  in  good  works,  laying  a  good  founda- 
tion against  the  time  to  come,  that  I  may  lay  hold 
on  eternal  life."^  Why,  pr'ythee,  what  dost  thou  do 
with  them.?  said  he.  Clothe  the  naked,  said  she. 
With  that  his  countenance  fell.  So  he  forbore  to 
come  at  her  again.  And  when  he  was  asked  the 
reason  why,  he  said,  that  Mercy  was  a  pretty  lass, 
but  troubled  with  ill  conditions. 

When  he  had  left  her,  Prudence  said.  Did  I  not 
tell  thee,  that  Mr.  Brisk  would  soon  forsake  thee  ? 
yea,  he  will  raise  up  an  ill  report  of  thee  :  for,  not- 
withstanding his  pretence  to  religion,  and  his  seem- 
ing love  to  mercy,  yet  Mercy  and  he  are  of  tempe'"« 
1  I  Tim.  vi.  18,  19. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  Z'^'J 

SO  different,  that  I  belie\c  they  will  never  come 
together. 

Mer.  I  might  have  had  husbands  before  now, 
though  I  spoke  not  of  it  to  any :  but  they  were  such 
as  did  not  like  my  conditions,  though  never  did  any 
of  them  find  fixult  with  my  person.  So  they  and  I 
could  not  agree. 

Prud.  Ivlcrcy  in  our  days,  is  but  little  set  by,  any 
further  than  as  to  its  name :  the  practice,  which  is 
set  forth  by  thy  conditions,  there  are  but  few  that  can 
abide. 

Well,  said  Mercy,  if  nobody  will  have  me,  I  will 
die  a  maid,  or  my  conditions  shall  be  to  me  as  a 
husband  ;  for  I  cannot  change  my  nature  ;  and  to 
have  one  that  lies  cross  to  me  in  this,  that  I  purpose 
never  to  admit  of  as  long  as  I  live.  I  had  a  sister, 
named  Bountiful,  that  was  married  to  one  of  these 
churls  :  but  he  and  she  could  never  agree  ;  but,  be- 
cause my  sister  was  resolved  to  do  as  she  had  begun, 
that  is,  to  show  kindness  to  the  poor,  therefore  her 
husband  first  cried  her  down  at  the  cross,  and  then 
turned  her  out  of  his  doors. 

Prud.  And  yet  he  was  a  professor,  I  warrant 
you  ! 

Mer.  Yes,  such  a  one  as  he  was,  and  of  such  as 
he  the  world  is  now  full  •  but  I  am  for  none  of  them 
all. 


368  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now,  Matthew,  the  eldest  son  of  Christiana,  fell 
sick,  and  his  sickness  was  sore  upon  him,  for  he  was 
much  pained  in  his  bowels,  so  that  he  was  with  it, 
at  times,  pulled  as  it  were  both  ends  together. 
There  dwelt  also  not  far  from  thence,  one  Mr.  Skill, 
an  ancient  and  well-approved  physician.  So  Chris- 
tiana desired  it,  and  they  sent  for  him,  and  he  came  : 
when  he  was  entered  the  room,  and  had  a  little  ob- 
served the  boy,  he  concluded  that  he  was  sick  of  the 
gripes.  Then  he  said  to  his  mother.  What  diet 
has  Matthew  of  late  fed  upon  ?  Diet !  said  Chris- 
tiana, nothmg  but  what  is  wholesome.  The  physi- 
cian answered.  This  boy  has  been  tampering  with 
something  that  lies  in  his  maw  undigested,  and  that 
will  not  away  without  means,  and  I  tell  you  he  must 
be  purged,  or  else  he  will  die. 

Then  said  Samuel,  Mother,  what  was  that  which 
my  brother  did  gather  up  and  eat,  so  soon  as  we 
were  come  from  the  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  this 
way  }  You  know  that  there  was  an  orchard  on  the 
left  hand,  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  and  some 
of  the  trees  hung  over  the  wall,  and  my  brother  did 
pluck  and  eat. 

True,  my  child,  said  Christiana,  he  did  take 
thereof,  and  did  eat:  naughty  boy  as  he  was,  I  chid 
him,  and  yet  he  would  eat  thereof. 

Skill.   I  knew  he  had   eaten   something  that  was 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  369 

not  wholesome  food  ;  and  that  food,  to  wit,  that  fruit, 
is  even  the  most  hurtful  of  all.  It  is  the  fruit  of 
Beelzebub's  orchard.  I  do  marvel  that  none  did 
warn  you  of  it :   many  have  died  thereof. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  cry  ;  and  she  said,  O 
naughty  boy!  and  O  careless  mother!  what  shall  I 
do  for  my  son  ? 

Skill.  Come,  do  not  be  too  much  dejected  ;  the 
boy  may  do  well  again,  but  he  must  purge  and 
vomit. 

Chr.  Pray,  sir,  try  the  utmost  of  your  skill  with 
him,  whatever  it  costs. 

Skill.  Nay,  I  hope  I  shall  be  reasonable.  So  he 
made  him  a  purge,  but  it  was  too  weak  ;  'twas  said, 
it  was  made  of  the  blood  of  a  goat,  the  ashes  of  a 
heifer,  and  with  some  of  the  juice  of  hyssop,  etc' 
When  Mr.  Skill  had  seen  that  that  purge  was  too 
weak,  he  made  him  one  to  tiie  purpose  ;  it  was  made 
ex  carne  et  sano-Hine  Christr  (you  know  physicians 
give  strange  medicines  to  their  patients)  :  and  it  was 
made  into  pills,  with  a  promise  or  two,  and  a  pro- 
portionable quantity  of  salt.^  Now,  he  was  to  take 
them  three  at  a  time,  fasting,  in  a  half  a  quarter  of  a 
pint  of  tlie  tears  of  repentance.' 

When   this  potion  was  prepared,  and  brought  to 
'  Heb.  ix.  19  ;  X.  1-4.  -'  John  vi.  54-57. 

3  Mark  ix.  49.  <  Zech.  xii.  10. 

24 


i70  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  boy,  he  was  loth  to  take  it,  though  torn  with  the 
gripes  as  if  he  should  be  pulled  in  pieces.  Come, 
come,  said  the  physician,  you  must  take  it.  It  goes 
against  my  stomach,  said  the  boy.  I  must  have  you 
take  it,  said  his  mother,  I  shall  vomit  it  up  again, 
said  the  boy.  Pray,  sir,  said  Christiana  to  Mr. 
Skill,  how  does  it  taste?  It  has  no  ill  taste,  said 
the  doctor ;  and  with  that  she  touched  one  of  the 
pills  with  the  tip  of  her  tongue.  O  Matthew,  said 
she,  this  potion  is  sweeter  than  honey.  If  thou 
lovest  thy  mother,  if  thou  lovest  thy  brothers,  if  thou 
lovest  Mercy,  if  thou  lovest  thy  life,  take  it.  So, 
with  much  ado,  after  a  short  prayer  for  the  blessing 
of  God  upon  it,  he  took  it,  and  it  wrought  kindly 
with  him.  It  caused  him  to  purge,  it  caused  him  to 
sleep,  and  to  rest  quietly  ;  it  put  him  into  a  fine 
heat  and  breathing  sweat,  and  it  quite  rid  him  of  his 
gripes. 

So  in  a  little  time  he  got  up,  and  walked  about 
with  a  staff',  and  would  go  from  room  to  room,  and 
talk  with  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity,  of  his  dis- 
temper, and  how  he  was  healed. 

So,  when  the  boy  was  healed,  Christiana  asked 
Mr.  Skill,  saying,  Sir,  what  will  content  you  for 
your  pains  and  cai^e  to  and  of  my  child?  And  he 
said,  You   must  pay  the  Master  of  the   College   of 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  371 

Physicians,  according  to  rules  made  in  that  case,  and 
provided.' 

But  sir,  said  she,  what  is  this  pill  good  for  else? 

Skill.  It  is  a  universal  pill  ;  it  is  good  against  all 
the  diseases  that  pilgrims  are  incident  to ;  and, 
when  it  is  well  prepared,  will  keep  good  time  out 
of  mind. 

Chr.  Pray,  sir,  make  me  up  twelve  boxes  of  them, 
for,  if  I  can  get  these,  I  will  never  take  other  physic. 

Skill.  These  pills  are  good  to  prevent  diseases, 
as  well  as  to  cure  when  one  is  sick.  Yea,  I  dare 
say  it,  and  stand  to  it,  that  if  a  man  will  but  use  this 
physic  as  he  should,  it  will  make  him  live  for  ever.'' 
But,  good  Christiana,  thou  must  give  these  pills  no 
other  way  but  as  I  have  prescribed  ;  for  if  you  do, 
they  will  do  no  good.  So  he  gave  unto  Christiana 
physic  for  herself  and  her  boys,  and  for  Mercy ;  and 
bid  Matthew  take  heed  how  he  ate  any  more  green 
plums,  and  kissed  them,  and  went  his  way. 

It  was  told  you  before,  that  Prudence  bid  the  boys, 
that  if  at  any  time  tliey  would,  they  should  ask  her 
some  questions  that  might  be  profitable,  and  she 
would  say  something  to  them. 

Then  Matthew,  who  had  been  sick,  asked  her, 
\Vhy,  for  the  most  part,  physic  should  be  bittrr  to 
our  palates  ? 

1  Heb.  xiii.  15.  2  John  vi.  51. 


372  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Prud.  To  show  how  unwelcome  the  woid  of 
God,  and  the  effects  thereof,  are  to  a  carnal  heart. 

Matt.  Why  does  physic,  if  it  does  good,  purge, 
and  cause  to  vomit? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  word,  when  it  works 
effectually,  cleanseth  the  heart  and  mind.  For  look, 
what  the  one  dotli  to  tlie  body,  the  other  doth  to  the 
soul. 

Mat.  What  should  we  learn  by  seeing  the  flame 
of  our  fire  go  upwards  ;  and  by  seeing  the  beams 
and  sweet  influences  of  the  sun  strike  downwards? 

Prud.  By  the  going  up  of  the  fire,  we  are  taught 
to  ascend  to  heaven  by  fervent  and  hot  desires.  And 
by  the  sun's  sending  his  heat,  beams,  and  sweet 
influences,  downwards,  we  are  taught  that  the 
Saviour  of  the  world,  though  high,  reaches  down 
witli  his  grace  and  love  to  us  below. 

Matt.  Whence  have  the  clouds  their  water? 

Prud.   Out  of  the  sea. 

Matt.  What  may  we  learn  from  that? 

Prud.  That  ministers  should  fetch  their  doctrine 
from  God. 

Matt.  Why  do  they  empty  themselves  upon  the 
earth  ? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  ministers  should  give  out 
what  they  know  of  God  to  the  world. 

Matt.  W^hy  is  the  rainbow  caused  by  the  sun? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  3/3 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  covenant  of  God's  grace 
is  confirmed  to  iis  in  Christ. 

Matt.  Why  do  tlie  springs  come  from  the  sea  to 
us  tlirough  the  earth  ? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  grace  of  God  comes  to 
us  through  the  body  of  Christ. 

Matt.  Why  do  some  of  the  springs  rise  out  of 
the  tops  of  high  hills.'' 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  Spirit  of  grace  shall 
spring  up  in  some  that  are  great  and  mighty,  as  well 
as  in  many  that  are  poor  and  low. 

Matt.  Why  doth  the  fire  fasten  upon  the  candle- 
wick.'* 

Prud.  To  show,  that  unless  grace  doth  kindle 
upon  the  heart,  there  will  be  no  true  light  of  life  in  us. 

Matt.  Why  are  the  wick  and  tallow  and  all  spent 
to  maintain  the  light  of  the  candle? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  body  and  soul  and  all 
should  be  at  the  sei-vice  of,  and  spend  themselves  to 
maintain  in  good  condition,  that  grace  of  God  tliat 
is  in  us. 

Matt.  Why  doth  the  pelican  pierce  her  own 
breast  with  her  bill  ? 

Prud.  To  nourish  her  young  ones  with  her  blood  ; 
and  thereby  to  show,  that  Christ  the  Blessed  so  loved 
his  young,  his  people,  as  to  save  them  from  death  by 
his  blood. 


374  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Matt.  What  may  one  learn  by  hearing  the  cock 
to  crow  ? 

Prud.  Learn  to  remember  Peter's  sin,  ai  d  Peter's 
repentance.  The  cock's  crowing  shows  also,  that 
day  is  coming  on  :  let  then  the  crowing  of  the  cock 
put  thee  in  mind  of  that  last  and  terrible  day  of 
judgment. 

Now,  about  this  time  their  month  was  out ;  where- 
fore they  signified  to  those  of  the  house,  that  it  was 
convenient  for  them  to  up  and  be  going.  Thea  said 
Joseph  to  his  mother,  It  is  proper  that  you  forget 
not  to  send  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Interpreter,  to  pray 
him  to  grant  that  Mr.  Great-heart  should  be  sent 
unto  us,  that  he  may  be  our  conductor  for  the  rest 
of  the  way.  Good  boy,  said  she,  I  had  almost  for- 
got. So  she  drew  up  a  petition,  and  prayed  Mr. 
Watchful,  the  porter,  to  send  it  by  some  fit  man  to 
her  good  friend  Mr.  Interpreter  ;  who,  when  it  was 
come,  and  he  had  seen  the  contents  of  the  petition, 
said  to  the  messenger,  Go  tell  them  that  I  will  send 
him. 

When  the  family  where  Christiana  was,  saw  that 
they  had  a  purpose  to  go  forward,  they  called  the 
whole  house  together,  to  give  thanks  to  their  King, 
for  sending  of  them  such  profitable  guests  as  these. 
Which  done,  they  said  unto  Christiana,  And  shall 
we  not  show  thee  something,  as  our  custom   is  to  do 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  375 

to  pilgrims,  on  which  thou  mayest  meditate  when 
thou  art  upon  the  way?  So  they  took  Christiana, 
her  children,  and  Mercy,  into  the  closet,  and  showed 
them  one  of  the  apples  that  Eve  ate  of,  and  that  she 
also  did  g  ve  to  her  husband,  and  that  for  the  eating 
of  which  they  were  both  turned  out  of  Paradise  ; 
and  asked  her.  What  she  thought  that  was?  Then 
Christiana  said.  It  is  food  or  poison,  I  know  not 
which.  So  they  opened  the  matter  to  her,  and  she 
held  up  her  hands  and  wondered.' 

Then  they  had  her  to  a  place,  and  showed  her 
Jacob's  ladder.  Now  at  that  time  there  were  some 
angels  ascending  upon  it.  So  Christiana  looked  and 
looked  to  see  the  angels  go  up  ;  so  did  the  rest  of  the 
company.*  Then  they  were  going  into  another 
place,  to  show  them  something  else  :  but  James  said 
to  his  mother,  Pray  bid  them  stay  here  a  little 
longer,  for  this  is  a  curious  sight.  So  they  turned 
again,  and  stood  feeding  their  eyes  with  this  so 
pleasant  a  prospect.  After  this,  they  had  them  into 
a  place,  where  did  hang  up  a  golden  anchor.  So 
they  bid  Christiana  take  it  down  ;  for,  said  they, 
you  shall  have  it  with  you,  for  'tis  of  absolute  ne- 
cessity that  you  should,  that  you  may  lay  hold  of 
that  within  the  veil,  and  stand  steadfast  in  case  you 
should  meet  with  turbulent  weather :  so  they  were 
1  Gen.  iii.  i-6 ;  Rom.  vii.  24.  -  Gtn.  xxviii.  I2. 


376  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

glad  thereof.'  Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them 
to  the  mount  upon  which  Ahraham  our  father  of- 
fered up  Isaac  his  son,  and  showed  them  the  altar, 
the  wood,  the  fire,  the  knife  ;  for  they  remain  to  be 
seen  to  this  very  day.  When  they  had  seen  it,  they 
held  up  their  hands  and  blessed  themselves,  and 
said.  Oh  !  what  a  man  for  love  to  his  Master,  and 
for  denial  to  himself,  was  Abraham  ! 

After  they  had  showed  them  all  these  things.  Pru- 
dence took  them  into  a  dining-room,  where  stood  a 
pair  of  excellent  virginals  :  so  she  played  upon  them, 
and  turned  what  she  had  showed  them  into  this  ex- 
cellent song,  saying — 

Eve's  apple  we  have  showed  you ; 

Of  that  be  you  aware  : 
You  have  seen  Jacob's  ladder  too, 

Upon  which  angels  are. 

An  anchor  you  received  have  ; 

But  let  not  these  suffice, 
Until  with  Abra'm  you  have  gave 

Your  best  a  sacrifice. 

Now  about  this  time  one  knocked  at  the  door  ;  so 
the  Porter  opened,  and,  behold,  Mr.  Great-heart  was 
there.  But  when  he  was  come  in,  what  joy  was 
there :  for  it  came  now  afresh  again  into  their 
minds,  ho\i  but  a  while  ago  he  had  slain  old  Grim 
1  Joel  iii.  l6;  Ileb.  iii.  19. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  377 

Bloody-man  the  giant,  and  had  delivered  them  from 
the  lions. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  Christiana  and  to 
Mercy,  My  lord  has  sent  each  of  you  a  bottle  of 
wine,  and  also  some  parched  corn,  together  with 
a  couple  of  pomegranates ;  he  has  also  sent  the 
boys  some  figs  and  raisins  ;  to  refresh  you  in  your 
way. 

Then  they  addressed  themselves  to  their  journey ; 
and  Prudence  and  Piety  went  along  with  them. 
When  they  canie  to  the  gate,  Christiana  asked  the 
Porter,  if  any  of  late  went  by.  He  said.  No,  only 
one,  some  time  since,  who  also  told  me,  that  of  late 
there  had  been  a  great  robbery  committed  on  the 
King's  highway,  as  you  go  :  but,  said  he,  the  thieves 
are  taken,  and  will  shortly  be  tried  for  their  lives. 
Then  Christiana  and  Mercy  were  afraid  ;  but  Mat- 
thew said,  Mother,  fear  nothing,  as  long  as  Mr. 
Great-heart  is  to  go  with  us,  and  to  be  our  con- 
ductor. 

Then  said  Christiana  to  tlie  Porter,  Sir,  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you  for  all  the  kindnesses  that  you 
have  showed  to  me  since  I  came  hither  ;  and  also  for 
that  you  have  been  so  loving  and  kind  to  my  chil- 
dren. I  know  not  how  to  gratify  your  kindness: 
wherefore,  pray,  as  a  token  of  my  respect  to  you, 
accept  of  this  small  mite.     So  she  put  a  gold   angel 


37^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

in  hib  hand  :  and  he  made  a  low  obeisance,  and  said, 
Let  thy  garments  be  always  white,  and  let  thy  head 
"want  no  ointment.  Let  Mercy  live  and  not  die,  and 
let  not  her  works  be  few.  And  to  the  boys  he  said, 
Do  you  fly  y.)uthful  lusts,  and  follow  after  godliness 
"with  them  that  are  grave  and  wise  ;  so  shall  you  put 
gladness  into  your  mother's  heart,  and  obtain  praise 
of  all  that  are  sober-minded.  So  they  thanked  the 
Porter,  and  departed. 

Now,  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  forward 
until  they  were  come  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  where 
Piety,  bethinking  herself,  cried  out,  Alas  !  I  have 
forgot  what  I  intended  to  bestow  upon  Christiana 
and  her  companions ;  I  will  go  back  and  fetch  it. 
So  she  ran  and  fetched  it.  While  she  was  gone, 
Christiana  thought  she  heard  in  a  grove,  a  little  way 
off  on  the  right  hand,  a  most  curious  melodious  note, 
with  words  much  like  these  : 

Through  all  my  life  thy  favour  is 

So  frankly  showed  to  me, 
That  in  thy  house  for  evermore 

My  dwelling-place  shall  be. 

And  listening  still,  she  thought  she  heard  another 
answer  it,  saying, — 

For  why  ?    The  Lord  our  God  is  good ; 
His  mercy  is  for  ever  sure ; 


THE  P.LGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  379 

His  truth  at  all  times  firmly  stood, 
And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure. 

So  Christiana  asked  Prudence  who  it  vv..s  that 
made  those  curious  notes.  They  are,  said  she,  our 
country  birds :  they  sing  these  notes  but  seldom,  ex- 
cept it  be  at  the  spring  when  the  flowers  appear, 
and  the  sun  shines  warm,  and  then  you  may  hear 
them  all  day  long.  I  often,  said  she,  go  out  to  hear 
them  ;  we  also  ofttimes  keep  them  tame  in  our 
house.  They  are  very  fine  company  for  us  when 
we  are  melancholy  ;  also  they  make  the  woods  and 
groves,  and  solitary  places,  places  desirous  to  be  in.' 

By  this  time  Piety  was  come  again  ;  so  she  said 
to  Christiana,  Look  here,  I  have  brought  thee  a 
scheme  of  all  those  things  that  thou  hast  seen  at  our 
house,  upon  which  thou  mayest  look  when  thou 
findest  thyself  forgetful,  and  call  those  things  again 
to  remembrance,  for  thy  edification  and  comfort. 

Now  they  began  to  go  down  the  hill  into  the  Val- 
ley of  Hinniliation.  It  was  a  steep  hill,  and  the 
way  was  slippery ;  but  they  were  very  careful ;  so 
they  got  down  pretty  well.  When  they  were  down 
in  the  valley,  Piety  said  to  Christiana,  This  is  the 
place  where  Christian  your  husband  met  with  the 
foul  fiend  Apollyon,  and  where  they  had  that  dread- 
ful fight  that  they  had:  I  know  you  cannot  but 
'  Song  ii.  II,  12. 


$^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

have  heard  thereof.  But  be  of  good  courage  ;  as 
long  as  you  have  here  Mr.  Great-heart  to  be  your 
guide  and  conductor,  we  hope  you  will  fare  the  bet- 
ter. So  when  these  two  had  committed  the  pilgrims 
unto  the  conduct  of  their  guide,  he  went  forward, 
and  they  went  after. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  We  need  not  be  so 
afraid  of  this  valley,  for  here  is  nothing  to  hurt  us, 
unless  we  procure  it  to  ourselves.  It  is  true,  Chris- 
tian did  here  meet  with  Apollyon,  with  whom  he 
also  had  a  sore  combat ;  but  that  fray  was  the  fruit 
of  those  slips  that  he  got  in  his  going  down  the  hill : 
for  they  that  get  slips  there,  must  look  for  combats 
here.  And  hence  it  is  that  this  valley  has  got  so 
hard  a  name.  For  the  common  people,  when  they 
hear  that  some  frightful  thing  has  befallen  such  a 
one,  in  such  a  place,  are  of  opinion  that  that  place 
is  haunted  with  some  foul  fiend,  or  evil  spirit ;  when, 
alas  !  it  is  for  the  fruit  of  their  own  doing  that  such 
things  do  befall  them  there. 

This  Valley  of  Humiliation  is  of  itself  as  fruitful 
a  place  as  any  the  crow  flies  over:  and  lam  per- 
suaded, if  we  could  hit  upon  it,  we  might  find  some- 
where hereabouts  something  that  might  give  us  an 
f.ccount  why  Christian  was  so  hardly  beset  in  this 
place. 

Then  said  James  to  his  mother,  Lo,  yonder  stands 


THE  PILGRIArS  PROGRESS.  3S1 

ti  pillar,  and  it  looks  as  if  something  was  vviitten 
thereon ;  let  us  go  and  sec  what  it  is.  So  they 
went  and  found  there  written,  "  Let  Christian's  slips 
before  he  came  hither,  and  die  battles  that  he  met 
with  in  this  place,  be  a  warning  to  those  that  come 
after." 

Lo,  said  their  guide,  did  not  I  tell  you  that  there 
was  something  hereabouts  that  would  give  intimation 
of  the  reason  why  Christian  was  so  hard  beset  in 
this  place.''  Then,  turning  himself  to  Christiana,  he 
said.  No  disparagement  to  Christian,  more  than  to 
any  others  whose  hap  and  lot  it  was.  For  it  is 
easier  going  up  than  down  this  hill,  and  that  can  be 
said  but  of  few  hills  in  all  these  parts  of  the  world. 
But  we  will  leave  the  good  man,  he  is  at  rest,  he 
also  had  a  brave  victory  over  his  enemy :  let  Him 
grant  that  dwelleth  above,  that  we  fare  not  worse, 
when  we  come  to  be  tried,  than  he. 

But  we  will  come  again  to  this  Valley  of  Humili- 
ation. It  is  the  best  and  most  fruitful  piece  of  ground 
in  all  these  parts.  It  is  fat  ground  ;  and,  as  you  see, 
consisteth  much  in  meadows  ;  and  if  a  man  was  to 
come  here  in  the  summer-time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he 
knew  not  anytliing  before  thereof,  and  if  he  also  de- 
lighted himself  in  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  he  might  see 
that  which  would  be  delightful  to  bim.  Behold 
how  green  this  valley  is  ;  also  how  beautiful  with 


•582  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

lilies.^  I  have  known  many  labouring  n  en  that 
have  got  good  estates  in  this  Valley  of  Humiliation 
(for  "  God  resisteth  the  proud,  but  giveth  grace  to 
the  humble");^  for  indeed  it  is  a  very  fruitful  soil, 
and  doth  bring  forth  by  handfuls.  Some  also  have 
wished  that  the  next  way  to  their  Father's  house 
were  here,  that  they  might  be  troubled  no  more  with 
either  hills  or  mountains  to  go  over :  but  the  way  is 
the  way,  and  there  is  an  end. 

Now  as  they  were  going  along,  and  talking,  they 
spied  a  boy  feeding  his  father's  sheep.  The  boy 
was  in  very  mean  clothes,  but  of  a  fresh  and  well- 
favoured  countenance  ;  and  as  he  sat  by  himself  he 
sung.  Hark,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  to  what  the 
shepherd's  boy  saith :  so  they  hearkened,  and  he 
said, 

He  that  is  down  needs  fear  no  fall ; 

He  that  is  low,  no  pride  : 
He  that  is  humble,  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 

I  am  content  with  what  I  have. 

Little  be  it  or  much  ; 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave, 

Because  thou  savest  such. 

Fulness  to  such  a  burden  is. 
That  go  on  pilgrimage  ; 

*  Song  ii.  I.  ^  James  iv.  6;  i  Pet.  v.  5, 


Tilt:  Vall<:>  ol   lluimlialiuu. 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  383 

Mere  little,  and  hereafter  bliss, 
Is  best  from  age  to  age.^ 

Then  said  the  guide,  Do  you  hear  him?  I  will 
dare  to  say,  this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life,  and  wears 
more  of  that  herb  called  heart's-ease  in  his  bosom, 
than  he  that  is  clad  in  silk  and  velvet.  But  we  will 
proceed  in  our  discourse. 

In  this  valley  our  Lord  formerly  had  his  country- 
house  ;  he  loved  much  to  be  here :  he  loved  also  to 
walk  these  meadows,  for  he  found  the  air  was  pleas- 
ant. Besides,  here  a  man  shall  be  free  from  the 
noise,  and  from  the  hurrynigs  of  this  life  :  all  states 
are  full  of  noise  and  confusion,  only  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation  is  that  empty  and  solitary  place.  Here 
a  man  shall  not  be  so  let  and  hindered  in  his  con- 
templation, as  in  other  places  he  is  apt  to  be.  This 
is  a  valley  that  nobody  walks  in,  but  those  that  love 
a  pilgrim's  life.  And  though  Christian  had  the  hard 
hap  to  meet  here  with  Apollyon,  and  to  enter  with 
him  in  a  brisk  encounter;  yet  I  must  tell  you,  that 
in  former  times  men  have  met  with  angels  here,  have 
found  pearls  here,  and  have  in  this  place  found  the 
words  of  life.^ 

Did  I  say  our  Lord  had  here  in  former  days  his 
country-house,  and  that  he  loved  here  to  walk?  I 
will  add,  in  this  place,  and  to  the  people  that  love 
*  Heb.  xiii.  5.  ^  Hos.  xii.  4,  5. 


384  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  trace  these  grounds,  he  has  left  a  yearly  revenue 
to  be  faithfully  paid  them  at  certain  seasons  for  their 
mamtenance  by  the  way,  and  for  their  further  en- 
couragement to  go  on  in  their  pilgrimage. 

Now,  as  they  w^ent  on,  Samuel  said  to  Mr.  Great- 
heart,  Sir,  I  perceive  that  in  this  valley  my  father 
and  Apollyon  had  their  battle  ;  but  whereabout  was 
the  fight.'*  for  I  perceive  this  valley  is  large. 

Great.  Your  father  had  the  battle  with  Apollyon 
at  a  place  yonder  before  us,  in  a  narrow  passage, 
just  beyond  Forgetful  Green.  And,  indeed,  that 
place  is  the  most  dangerous  place  in  all  these  parts  ; 
for  if  at  any  time  jDilgrims  meet  with  any  brunt,  it  is 
when  they  forget  what  favours  they  have  received, 
and  how  unworthy  they  are  of  them.  This  is  the 
place  also  where  others  have  been  hard  put  to  it. 
But  more  of  the  place  when  we  are  come  to  it ;  for 
I  persuade  myself,  that  to  this  day  there  remains 
either  some  sign  of  the  battle,  or  some  monument  to 
testify  that  such  a  battle  there  was  fought. 

Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  I  am  as  well  in  this 
valley  as  I  have  been  any  where  else  in  all  our  jour- 
ney :  the  place,  methinks,  suits  with  my  spirit.  I 
love  to  be  in  such  places  where  there  is  no  rattling 
with  coaches,  nor  rumbling  with  wheels  ;  methinks, 
here  one  may,  without  much  molestation,  be  think- 
ing what  he  is,  whence  he  came,  what  he  has  done, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  385 

and  to  what  the  Kin^r  has  called  him  :  here  owe  may 
think,  and  break  at  heart,  and  melt  in  one's  spirit, 
until  one's  eyes  become  "  as  the  fish-pools  of  Hesh- 
bon."  They  that  go  rightly  through  this  "  valley  of 
Baca,  make  it  a  well  ;  the  rain,"  that  God  sends 
down  from  heaven  upon  them  that  arc  here,  "  also 
fiUeth  the  pools."  This  valley  is  that  from  whence 
also  the  King  will  give  to  his  their  vineyards  ;'  and 
they  that  go  through  it  shall  sing  as  Christian  did, 
for  all  he  met  with  Apollyon. 

'Tis  true,  said  their  guide  ;  I  have  gone  through 
this  valley  many  a  time,  and  never  was  better  than 
when  here.  I  have  also  been  a  conductor  to  several 
pilgrims,  and  they  have  confessed  the  same.  "  To 
this  man  will  I  look  (saith  the  King),  even  to  him 
that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  that  trem- 
bleth  at  my  word." 

Now  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  the  afore- 
mentioned battle  was  fought.  Then  said  the  guide 
to  Christiana,  her  children,  and  Mercy,  This  is  the 
place  :  on  this  ground  Christian  stood,  and  up  there 
came  Apollyon  against  him  :  and,  look,  did  I  not 
tell  you,  here  is  some  of  your  husband's  blood  upon 
these  stones  to  this  day !  Behold,  also,  how  here 
and  there  are  yet  to  be  seen  upon  the  place  some  of 
the  shivers  of  Apollyon's    broken  darts  :    see  also, 

^  Song  vii.  4 ;  Ps.  Ix.vxiv.  5-7  ;   Hos.  ii.  15. 
25 


3S6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

how  they  did  beat  the  ground  with  their  feet  as  they 
fought,  to  make  good  their  places  against  each  other  ; 
how  also,  with  their  by-blows,  they  did  split  the  very 
stones  in  pieces :  verily  Christian  did  here  play  the 
man,  and  showed  himself  as  stout  as  Hercules  could^ 
had  he  been  here,  even  he  himself.  When  Apollyon 
was  beat,  he  made  his  retreat  to  the  next  valley,  that 
is  called  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  unto 
which  we  shall  come  anon. 

Lo,  yonder  also  stands  a  monument,  on  which  is 
engraven  this  battle,  and  Christian's  victory,  to  his 
fame  throughout  all  ages.  So  it  stood  just  on  the 
wayside  before  them,  they  stepped  to  it,  and  read 
the  writing,  which,  word  for  word,  was  this : — 

Hard  by  here  was  a  battle  fought, 
Most  strange,  and  yet  most  true ; 

Christian  and  Apollyon  sought 
Each  other  to  subdue. 

The  man  so  bravely  play'd  the  man, 

He  made  the  fiend  to  fly  ; 
Of  which  a  monument  I  stand, 

The  same  to  testify. 

When  they  had  passed  by  this  place,  they  came 
upon  the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  this 
valley  was  longer  than  the  other,  a  place  also  most 
strangely  haunted  with  evil  things,  as  many  are  able 
to  testify ;  but  these  women  and  children  went  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  3S7 

better  through  it,  becaust;  they  had  daylight,  and  be- 
cause Mr.  Great-heart  was  their  conductor. 

When  they  were  entered  upon  this  valley,  they 
thought  they  heard  a  groaning,  as  of  dying  men — a 
very  great  groaning.  They  thought  also  that  they 
did  hear  words  of  lamentation,  spoken  as  of  some 
in  extreme  torment.  These  things  made  the  boys  to 
quake,  the  women  also  looked  pale  and  wan  ;  but 
their  guide  bid  them  be  of  good  comfort. 

So  they  went  on  a  little  further,  and  they  thought 
that  they  felt  the  ground  begin  to  shake  under  them, 
as  if  some  hollow  place  was  there  ;  they  heard  also 
a  kind  of  hissing,  as  of  serpents,  but  nothing  as  yet 
appeared.  Then  said  the  boys.  Are  we  not  yet  at 
the  end  of  this  doleful  place?  But  the  guide  also 
bid  them  be  of  good  courage,  and  look  well  to 
their  feet,  lest  haply,  said  he,  you  be  taken  in  some 
snare. 

Now  James  began  to  be  sick,  but  I  think  the  cause 
thereof  was  fear;  so  his  mother  gave  him  some  of 
that  glass  of  spirits  that  had  been  given  her  at  the 
Interpreter's  house,  and  three  of  the  pills  that  Mr. 
Skill  had  prepared,  and  the  boy  began  to  revive. 
Thus  they  went  on,  till  they  came  to  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  valley  ;  and  then  Christiana  said,  Mcthinks 
I  see  something  yonder  upon  the  road  before  us  ;  a 
thing  of   a  shape  such  as  I  have   not  seen.     Thea 


3S8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

said  Joseph,  Mother,  what  is  it?  An  ugly  thing, 
child,  an  ugly  thing,  said  she.  But,  mother,  what 
is  it  like?  said  he.  'Tis  like  I  cannot  tell  what,  said 
she.  And  now  it  is  but  a  little  way  oft".  Then  said 
she.  It  is  nigh. 

Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  let  them  that  are  most 
afraid,  keep  close  to  me.  So  the  fiend  came  on,  and 
the  conductor  met  it ;  but  when  it  was  just  come  to 
him,  it  vanished  to  all  their  sights.  Then  remem- 
bered they  what  had  been  said  some  time  ago,  "  Re- 
sist the  devil,  and  he  will  flee  from  you." 

They  went  therefore  on,  as  being  a  little  I'efreshed  ; 
but  they  had  not  gone  far,  before  Mercy,  looking 
behind  her,  saw,  as  she  thought,  something  most 
like  a  lion,  and  it  came  a  great  padding  pace  after ; 
and  it  had  a  hollow  voice  of  roaring ;  and  at  every 
roar  it  gave,  it  made  the  valley  echo,  and  all  their 
hearts  to  ache,  save  the  heart  of  him  that  was  their 
guide.  So  it  came  up  ;  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went 
behind,  and  put  the  pilgrims  all  before  him.  The 
lion  also  came  on  apace,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  ad- 
dressed himself  to  give  him  battle.  But  when  he 
saw  that  it  was  determined  that  resistance  should  be 
made,  he  also  drew  back  and  came  no  further.' 

Then  they  went  on  again,  and  their  conductor  did 
go  before  them,  till  they  came  at  a  place  where  was 
1  I  Pet.  V,  9. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  3S9 

cast  up  a  pit  the  whole  breadth  of  the  way  ;  and, 
before  they  could  be  prepared  to  go  over  that,  a 
great  mist  and  a  darkness  fell  upon  them,  so  that 
they  could  not  see.  Then  said  the  pilgrims,  Alas  ! 
wha':  now  shall  we  do  ?  But  their  guide  made  an- 
swer, Fear  not,  stand  still,  and  see  what  an  end  will 
be  put  to  this  also.  So  they  stayed  there,  because 
their  path  was  marred.  They  then  also  thought 
that  the^'  did  hear  more  apparently  the  noise  and 
rushing  of  the  enemies;  the  fire  also  and  smoke  of 
the  pit  was  much  easier  to  be  discerned.  Then  said 
Christiana  to  Mercy,  Now  I  see  what  my  poor  hus- 
band went  through ;  I  have  heard  much  of  this 
place,  but  I  never  was  here  afore  now.  Poor  man  ! 
he  went  here  all  alone  in  the  night ;  he  had  night 
almost  quite  through  the  way :  also  these  fiends 
were  busy  about  him,  as  if  they  would  have  torn 
him  in  pieces.  Many  have  spoken  of  it,  but  none 
can  tell  what  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death 
should  mean  until  they  come  into  it  themselves. 
"  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness,  and  a 
stranger  intermeddleth  not  with  its  joy."  To  be 
here  is  a  fearful  thing. 

Great  .  This  is  like  doing  business  in  great  wa- 
ters, or  like  going  down  into-  the  deep  ;  this  is  like 
being  in  the  heart  of  the  sea,  and  like  going  down 
to  thtf   bottoms  of  the  mountains  ;  now   it  seems  as 


390  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

if  the  earth,  with  its  bars,  were  about  us  for  ever. 
"  But  let  them  that  walk  in  darkness,  and  have  no 
light,  trust  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon 
their  God."  For  my  part,  as  I  have  told  }ou  al- 
ready, I  have  gone  often  through  this  valley ;  and 
have  been  much  harder  put  to  it  than  now  I  am  ; 
and  yet  you  see  I  am  alive.  I  would  not  boast,  for 
that  I  am  not  my  own  saviour.  But  I  trust  we 
shall  have  a  good  deliverance.  Come,  let  us  pray 
for  light  to  Him  that  can  lighten  our  darkness,  and 
that  can  rebuke,  not  only  these,  but  all  the  satans  in 
hell. 

So  they  cried  and  prayed,  and  God  sent  light  and 
deliverance  ;  for  there  was  now  no  let  in  their  way, 
no,  not  there  where  but  now  they  were  stopt  with  a 
pit.  Yet  they  were  not  got  through  the  valley :  so 
they  went  on  still,  and  behold  great  stinks  and  loath- 
some smells,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  them.  Then 
said  Mercy  to  Christiana,  There  is  not  such  pleasant 
being  here  as  at  the  gate,  or  at  the  Interpreter's,  or 
at  the  house  where  we  lay  last. 

Oh,  but,  said  one  of  the  boys,  it  is  not  so  bad  to 
go  through  here,  as  it  is  to  abide  here  always ;  and, 
for  aught  I  know,  one  reason  why  we  must  go  this 
way  to  the  house  prepared  for  us,  is,  that  our  home 
might  be  made  the  sweeter  to  us. 

Well   said,   Samuel,  quoth  the  guide ;  thou  hast 


ThE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  391 

now  spoke  like  a  man  Why,  if  ever  I  get  out 
here  again,  said  the  boy,  I  think  I  shall  prize  light 
and  good  way  better  than  ever  I  did  in  all  my  life. 
Then  said  the  guide,  We  shall  be  out  by  and  by. 

So  on  they  went,  and  Joseph  said,  Cannot  we  see 
to  the  end  of  this  valley  as  yet?  Then  said  the 
guide,  Look  to  your  feet,  for  we  shall  presently  be 
among  the  snares.  So  they  looked  to  their  feet,  and 
went  on  ;  but  they  were  troubled  much  with  the 
snares.  Now,  when  they  were  come  among  the 
snares,  they  spied  a  man  cast  into  the  ditch  on  the 
left  hand,  with  his  flesh  all  rent  and  torn.  Then 
said  the  guide,  That  is  one  Heedless,  that  was  going 
this  way  ;  he  has  lain  there  a  great  while.  There 
was  one  Take-heed  w^ith  him  when  he  was  taken 
and  slain,  but  he  escaped  their  hands.  You  cannot 
imagine  how  man}^  are  killed  hereabouts,  and  yet 
men  are  so  foolishly  venturous,  as  to  set  out  lightly 
on  pilgrimage,  and  to  come  without  a  guide.  Poor 
Christian,  it  was  a  wonder  that  he  here  escaped ! 
But  he  was  beloved  of  his  God :  also  he  had  a  good 
heart  of  his  own,  or  else  he  could  never  have  done 
it. 

Now  they  drew  towards  the  end  of  this  way ;  and 
just  there,  where  Christian  had  seen  the  cave  when 
he  went  by,  out  thence  came  forth  Maul,  a  giant. 
'iViis  Maul   did   use   to   spoil    young   pilgrims  with 


392  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

sophistry ;  and  he  called  Great-heart  by  his  name, 
and  said  unto  him,  How  many  times  have  you  been 
■^orbidden  to  do  these  things?  Then  said  Mr,  Great- 
/leart,  What  things?  What  things  !  quoth  the  giant ; 
you  know  what  things  :  but  I  will  put  an  end  to  your 
trade.  But  pray,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  before  we 
fall  to  it,  let  us  understand  wlierefore  we  must  fight. 
(Now  the  women  and  children  stood  trembling,  and 
knew  not  what  to  do.)  Q_uoth  the  giant,  You  rob 
the  country,  and  rob  it  with  the  worst  of  thefts. 
These  are  but  generals,  said  Mr.  Great-heart ;  come 
to  particulars,  man. 

Then  said  the  giant.  Thou  practisest  the  craft  of  a 
kidnapper ;  thou  gatherest  up  women  and  children, 
and  earnest  them  into  a  strange  country,  to  the 
weakening  of  my  master's  kingdom.  But  now 
Great-heart  replied,  I'am  a  servant  of  the  God  of 
heaven  ;  my  business  is  to  persuade  sinners  to  re- 
pentance. I  am  commanded  to  do  my  endeavours 
to  turn  men,  women,  and  children  "  from  darkness 
to  light,  and  from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God  ;" 
and  if  this  be  indeed  the  ground  of  thy  quarrel,  let 
us  fall  to  it  as  soon  as  thou  wilt. 

Then  the  giant  came  up,  and  Mr.  Great-heart 
went  to  meet  him  :  and,  as  he  went,  he  drew  his 
sword  ;  but  the  giant  had  a  club.  So,  without  more 
ado,  they  fell  to    it,  and   at  the  first  blow  the  giant 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  393 

Struck  Mr.  Great-heart  down  upon  one  of  his  knees  ; 
with  that  the  women  and  children  cried  out:  so 
iSIr.  Great-heart,  recovering  himself,  laid  about  liim 
in  full  lusty  manner,  and  gave  the  giant  a  wound  in 
his  arm  :  thus  he  fought  for  the  space  of  an  hour  to 
that  height  of  heat,  that  the  breath  came  out  of  the 
giant's  nostrils  as  the  heat  doth  out  of  a  boiling 
caldron. 

Then  they  sat  down  to  rest  them,  but  Mr.  Great- 
heart  betook  himself  to  prayer  ;  also  the  women  and 
children  did  nothing  but  sigh  and  cry  all  the  time 
that  the  battle  did  last. 

When  they  had  rested  them,  and  taken  breath, 
they  both  fell  to  it  again  ;  and  Mr.  Great-heart,  with 
a  blow,  fetched  the  giant  down  to  the  ground.  Nay, 
hold,  let  me  recover,  quoth  he  :  so  Mr.  Great-heart 
fairly  let  him  get  up.  So  to  it  they  went  again,  and 
the  giant  missed  but  little  of  all-to  breaking  Mr. 
Great-heart's  skull  with  his  club. 

Mr.  Great-heart  seeing  that,  runs  io  him  in  the 
full  heat  of  his  spirit,  and  pierceth  him  under  the 
fifth  rib;  with  that  the  giant  began  to  faint,  and 
could  hold  up  his  club  no  longer.  Then  Mr.  Great- 
heart  seconded  his  blow,  and  smote  the  head  of  the 
giant  from  his  shoulders.  Then  the  women  and 
children  rejoiced,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  also  praised 
God  for  the  do  iverance  he  had  wrought. 


394  THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS. 

When  this  was  done,  they  amongst  them  erected 
a  pillar,  and  fastened  the  giant's  head  thereon,  and 
wrote  under  it,  in  letters  that  passengers  might  read, 

He  that  did  wear  this  head  was  one 

That  pilgrims  did  misuse  ; 
He  stopt  their  way,  he  spared  none, 

But  did  them  all  abuse  : 

Until  that  I  Great-heart  arose, 

The  pilgrim's  guide  to  be  ; 
Until  that  I  did  him  oppose, 

That  was  their  enemy. 

Now  I  saw  that  they  went  on  to  the  ascent  that 
was  a  little  way  off  cast  up  to  be  a  prospect  for  pil- 
grims (that  was  the  place  from  whence  Christian 
had  the  first  sight  of  Faithful,  his  brother).  Where- 
fore here  they  sat  down  and  rested  ;  they  also  here 
did  eat  and  drink,  and  make  merry,  for  that  they  had 
gotten  deliverance  from  this  so  dangerous  an  enemy. 
As  they  sat  thus  and  did  eat,  Christiana  asked  the 
guide  if  he  had  caught  no  hurt  in  the  battle.  Then 
said  Mr.  Great-heart,  No,  save  a  little  on  my  flesh  ; 
yet  that  also  shall  be  so  far  from  being  to  my  detri- 
ment, that  it  is  at  present  a  proof  of  my  love  to  my 
Master  and  you ;  and  shall  be  a  means,  b}'  grace,  to 
increase  m}-  reward  at  last. 

CiiR.  But  were  you  not  afraid,  good  sir,  when  you 
saw  l/'.iu  come  with  his  club? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  395 

It  is  my  duty,  said  he,  to  mistrust  my  own  ability, 
that  I  may  have  reliance  on  Him  that  is  stronger 
than  all.^ 

Chr.  But  what  did  you  think,  when  he  fetched 
you  down  to  the  ground  at  the  first  blow? 

Why,  I  thought,  quoth  he,  that  so  my  Master  him- 
self was  served  ;  and  yet  he  it  was  that  conquered 
at  last. 

^Iatt.  When  you  all  have  thought  what  you 
please,  I  think  God  has  been  wonderfully  good  unto 
us,  both  in  bringing  us  out  of  this  valley,  and  in  de- 
livering us  out  of  the  hand  of  this  enemy ;  for  my 
part,  I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  distrust  our 
God  any  more,  since  he  has  now,  and  in  such  a 
place  as  this,  given  us  such  testimony  of  his 
love. 

Then  they  got  up,  and  went  forward.  Now  a 
little  before  them  stood  an  oak :  and  under  it,  when 
they  came  to  it,  they  found  an  old  pilgrim  fast 
asleep :  they  knew  that  he  was  a  pilgrim  by  his 
clothes,  and  his  staff,  and  his  girdle. 

So  the  guide,  Mr.  Great-heart,  awaked  him  ;  and 
the  old  gentleman,  as  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  cried  out. 
What's  the  matter?  Who  are  you?  and  what  is 
your  business  here  ? 

Great.  Come,  man,  be  not  so  hot,  hiere  are  none 
2  Cor.  iv. 


39^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

but  friends.  Yet  the  old  man  gets  up,  and  stands 
upon  his  guard,  and  will  know  of  them  what  the} 
ai'e.  Then  said  the  guide.  My  name  is  Gi"eat-heart . 
I  am  the  guide  of  these  pilgrims,  mat  are  gomg  to 
the  Celestial  Country. 

Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  I  cry  you  mercy.  I  feared 
^lat  you  had  been  of  the  company  of  those  that 
some  time  ago  did  rob  Little-faith  of  his  money  ;  but 
now  I  look  better  about  me,  I  perceive  you  are  hon- 
ester  people. 

Great.  Why,  what  would  or  could  you  have 
done,  to  have  helped  j'ourself,  if  indeed  we  had  been 
of  that  company.'' 

Hon.  Done  I  why,  I  would  have  fought  as  long 
as  breath  had  been  in  me  ;  and  had  I  so  done,  I  am 
sure  you  could  never  have  given  me  the  worst  on't ; 
for  a  Christian  can  never  be  overcome,  unless  he 
shall  yield  of  himself. 

Well  said,  father  Honest,  quoth  the  guide  ;  for  by 
this  I  know  that  thou  art  a  cock  of  the  right  kind, 
for  thou  hast  said  the  truth. 

Hon.  And  by  this  also,  I  know,  that  thou  knowest 
what  true  pilgrimage  is :  for  all  others  do  think  that 
we  are  the  soonest  overcome  of  any. 

Great.  Well,  now  we  are  so  happily  met,  pray 
let  me  crave  your  name,  and  the  name  of  the  place 
you  cai  ic  from .'' 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  2>9l 

Hon.  My  name  I  cannot:  but  I  came  from  the 
town  of  Stupidity  ;  it  licth  about  four  degrees  be- 
yond the  city  of  Destruction. 

Great.  Oh!  are  you  that  countrjman?  Then  I 
deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of  you  :  your  name  is  Old 
Honesty,  is  it  not.-* 

So  the  old  gentleman  blushed,  and  said,  not 
honesty  in  the  abstract:  but  Honest  is  my  name, 
and  I  wish  that  my  nature  may  agree  to  what  I  am 
called. 

But,  sir,  said  the  old  gentleman,  how  could  you 
guess  that  I  am  such  a  man,  since  I  came  from  such 
a  place  ? 

Great.  I  had  heard  of  you  before,  by  my  Master  ; 
for  he  knows  all  things  that  are  done  on  the  earth  : 
but  I  have  often  wondered  that  any  should  come 
from  your  place,  for  your  town  is  worse  than  is  the 
city  of  Destruction  itself. 

Hox.  Yes,  we  lie  more  off  from  the  sun,  and  so 
are  more  cold  and  senseless ;  but  was  a  man  in  a 
mountain  of  ice,  yet  if  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 
will  arise  upon  him,  his  frozen  heart  shall  feel  a 
thaw.     And  thus  it  hath  been  with  me. 

Great.  I  believe  it,  father  Honest,  I  believe  it ; 
for  I  know  the  thing  is  true. 

Then  the  old  gentleman  saluted  all  the  jDilgrims 
with  a  holy  kiss  of  charity  ;  and  asked  them  of  their 


39S  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

names,  and  how  they  had  fared  since  they  had  set 
out  on  their  pilgrimage. 

Then  said  Christiana,  My  name,  I  suppose,  you 
have  heard  of:  good  Christian  was  my  husband,  and 
these  four  are  his  children.  But  can  you  think  how 
the  old  gentleman  was  taken,  when  she  told  him 
who  she  was !  He  skipped,  he  smiled,  he  blessed 
them  with  a  thousand  good  wishes  ;  saying,  I  have 
heard  much  of  your  husband,  and  of  his  travels  and 
wars,  which  he  underwent  in  his  days.  Be  it  spoken 
to  your  comfort,  the  name  of  your  husband  rings  all 
over  these  parts  of  the  world  ;  his  faith,  his  courage, 
his  enduring,  and  his  sincerity  under  all,  have  made 
his  name  famous. 

Then  he  turned  him  to  the  boys,  and  asked  of  them 
their  names,  which  they  told  him.  And  then  said 
he  unto  them, — Matthew,  be  thou  like  Matthew  the 
publican,  not  in  vice  but  in  virtue.  Samuel,  said 
he,  be  thou  like  Samuel  the  prophet,  a  man  of  faith 
and  prayer.  Joseph,  said  he,  be  thou  like  Joseph  in 
Fotiphar's  house,  chaste,  and  one  that  flies  from 
temptation.  And  James,  be  thou  like  James  the 
Just,  and  like  James  the  brother  of  our  Lord.^ 
Then  they  told  him  of  Mercy,  and  how  she  had  left 
her  town  and  her  kindred  to  come  along  with  Chris- 
tiana and  with  her  sons.  At  that  the  old  honest 
'  Matt.  X.  3  ;  Ps.  xcix.  6 ;  Gen.  xxxix. ;  Acts  i.  13,  14. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  399 

man  said,  Mercy  is  thy  name,  by  mercy  shalt  thou 
be  sustained,  and  carried  through  all  those  difficulties 
that  shall  assault  thee  in  thy  way,  till  thou  shalt  come 
thither  where  thou  shalt  look  the  Fountain  of  mercy 
in  the  face  with  comfort.  All  this  while  the  guide, 
Mr.  Great-heart,  was  very  well  pleased,  and  smiled 
upon  his  companions. 

Now,  as  they  walked  along  together,  the  guide 
asked  the  old  gentleman,  if  he  did  not  know  one 
Mr.  Fearing,  that  came  on  pilgrimage  out  of  his 
parts. 

Yes,  very  well,  said  he.  He  was  a  man  that  had 
the  root  of  the  matter  in  him  ;  but  he  was  one  of  the 
most  troublesome  pilgrims  that  ever  I  met  with  in 
all  my  days. 

Great.  I  perceive  you  knew  him,  for  you  have 
given  a  very  right  character  of  him. 

Hon.  Knew  him  !  I  was  a  great  companion  of 
his ;  I  was  with  him  most  an  end  ;  when  he  first  be- 
gan to  think  upon  what  would  come  upon  us  here- 
after, I  was  with  him. 

Great.  I  was  his  guide  from  my  Master's  house 
to  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City. 

Hon.  Then  you  knew  him  to  be  a  troublesome  one. 

Great.  I  did  so ;  but  I  could  very  well  bear  it ; 
for  men  of  my  calling  are  oftentimes  intrusted  with 
the  conduct  of  such  as  he  was. 


400  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Hon.  Why,  then,  pray  let  us  hear  a  little  of  him. 
and  how  he  managed  himself  under  your  conduct. 

Great.  Why,  he  was  always  afraid  that  he  should 
come  short  of  whither  he  had  a  desire  to  go.  Every 
thing  frightened  him  that  he  heard  any  body  speak 
of,  if  it  had  but  the  least  appearance  of  opposition 
in  it.  I  hear  that  he  lay  roaring  at  the  Slough  of 
Despond  for  above  a  month  together ;  nor  durst  he, 
for  all  he  saw  several  go  over  before  him,  venture, 
though  they,  many  of  them,  offered  to  lend  him 
their  hands.  He  would  not  go  back  again  neither. 
The  Celestial  City,  he  said,  he  should  die  if  he  came 
not  to  it ;  and  yet  he  was  dejected  at  every  difficulty, 
and  stumbled  at  every  straw  that  any  body  cast  in 
his  way.  Well,  after  he  had  lain  at  the  Slough  of 
Despond  a  great  while,  as  I  have  told  you,  one  sun- 
shiny morning,  I  don't  know  how,  he  ventured,  and 
so  got  over ;  but  when  he  was  over,  he  would  scarce 
believe  it.  He  had,  I  think,  a  Slough  of  Despond 
in  his  mind,  a  slough  that  he  carried  every  where 
with  him,  or  else  he  could  never  have  been  as  he 
was.  So  he  came  up  to  the  gate,  you  know  what  I 
mean,  that  stands  at  the  head  of  this  way,  and  there 
also  he  stood  a  great  while  before  he  would  venture 
to  knock.  When  the  gate  was  opened,  he  would 
give  back,  and  give  place  to  others,  and  say  that  he 
was  not  worthy.     For,  for  all  he  got  before  some 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  401 

to  the  gate,  yet  many  of  them  went  in  before  him. 
There  the  poor  man  would  stand  shaking  and 
shrinking ;  I  dare  say  it  would  have  pitied  one's 
heart  to  have  seen  him.  Nor  would  he  go  back 
again.  At  last  he  took  the  hammer  that  hanged  on 
the  gate,  in  his  hand,  and  gave  a  small  rap  or  two  ; 
then  one  opened  to  him,  but  he  shrunk  back  as  be- 
fore. He  that  ojDened,  stepped  out  after  him,  and 
said.  Thou  trembling  one,  what  wantest  thou  ? 
With  that  he  fell  down  to  the  ground.  He  that 
spoke  to  him  wondered  to  see  him  so  faint,  so  he 
said  to  l:im,  Peace  be  to  thee;  up,  for  I  have  set 
open  the  door  to  thee  ;  come  in,  for  thou  art  blessed. 
With  that  he  got  up,  and  went  in  trembling ;  and 
when  that  he  was  in,  he  was  ashamed  to  show  his 
face.  Well,  after  he  had  been  entertained  there  a 
while,  as  you  know  how  the  manner  is,  he  was  bid 
go  on  his  way,  and  also  told  the  way  he  should  take. 
So  he  went  on  till  he  came  to  our  house  ;  but  as  he 
behaved  himself  at  the  gate,  so  did  he  at  my  Master 
the  Interpreter's  door.  He  lay  thereabout  in  the 
cold  a  good  while,  before  he  would  adventure  to 
call ;  yet  he  would  not  go  back  :  and  the  nights  were 
long  and  cold  then.  Nay,  he  had  a  note  of  necessity 
in  his  bosom  to  my  Master  to  receive  him,  and  grant 
him  the  comfort  of  his  house,  and  also  to  allow  him 
a  stout  and  valiant  conductor,  bee  uise  he  was  him- 
26 


402  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

self  so  chicken-hearted  a  man  ;  and  yet,  for  all  that, 
he  was  afraid  to  call  at  the  door.  So  he  lay  up  and 
down  thereabouts,  till,  poor  man,  he  was  almost 
starved  ;  yea,  so  great  was  his  dejection,  that  though 
he  saw  several  others  for  knocking  get  in,  yet  he  was 
afraid  to  venture.  At  last,  I  think,  I  looked  out  of 
the  window,  and  perceiving  a  man  to  be  up  and 
down  about  the  door,  I  went  out  to  him,  and  asked 
what  he  was.  But,  poor  man,  the  water  stood  in 
his  eyes ;  so  I  perceived  what  he  wanted.  I  went 
therefore  in,  and  told  it  in  the  house,  and  we  showed 
the  thing  to  our  Lord  :  so  he  sent  me  out  again,  to 
entreat  him  to  come  in  ;  but  I  dare  say,  I  had  hard 
work  to  do  it.  At  last  he  came  in  ;  and  I  will  say 
that  for  my  Lord,  he  carried  it  wondei-fully  lovingly 
to  him.  There  were  but  a  few  good  bits  at  the 
table,  but  some  of  it  was  laid  upon  his  trencher. 
Then  he  presented  the  note  ;  and  my  Lord  looked 
thereon,  and  said  his  desire  should  be  granted  So 
when  he  had  been  there  a  good  while,  he  seemed  to 
get  some  heart,  and  to  be  a  little  more  comfortable. 
For  my  Master,  you  must  know,  is  one  of  very  ten- 
der bowels,  especially  to  them  that  are  afraid ; 
wherefore  he  carried  it  so  towards  him,  as  might 
tend  most  to  his  encouragement.  Well,  when  he 
had  had  a  sight  of  the  things  of  the  place,  and  was 
ready  to  take  his  journey  to  go  to  the  city,  my  Lord, 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  403 

as  he  did  to  Christian  before,  gave  him  a  bottle  of 
spirits,  and  some  comfortable  things  to  eat.  Thus 
we  set  forward,  and  I  went  before  him  ;  but  tlie 
man  was  but  of  few  words,  only  he  would  sigh 
aloud. 

When  we  were  coine  to  where  the  three  fellows 
were  hanged,  he  said  that  he  doubted  that  that  would 
be  his  end  also.  Only  he  seemed  glad  when  he 
saw  the  Cross  and  the  Sepulchre.  There  I  confess 
he  desired  to  stay  a  little  to  look  ;  and  he  seemed  for 
a  while  after  to  be  a  little  cheery.  Wiien  he  came 
to  the  hill  Difficulty,  he  made  no  stick  at  that,  nor 
did  he  much  fear  the  lions :  for  you  must  know  that 
his  trouble  was  not  about  such  things  as  these  ;  his 
fear  was  about  his  acceptance  at  last. 

I  got  him  in  at  the  house  Beautiful,  I  think  before 
he  was  willing.  Also  when  he  was  in,  I  brought 
him  acquainted  with  the  damsels  of  the  place ;  but 
he  was  ashamed  to  make  himself  much  in  company. 
He  desired  much  to  be  alone  ;  yet  he  always  loved 
good  talk,  and  often  would  get  behind  the  screen  to 
hear  it.  He  also  loved  much  to  see  ancient  things, 
and  to  be  pondering  them  in  his  mind.  He  told  me 
afterward,  that  he  loved  to  be  in  those  two  houses 
from  which  he  came  last,  to  wit,  at  the  Gate,  and 
that  of  the  Interpreter,  but  that  he  durst  not  be  so 
bold  as  to  ask. 


404  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

When  we  went  also  from  the  house  Beautiful, 
down  the  hill,  into  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  he 
went  down  as  well  as  ever  I  saw  a  man  in  my  life  ; 
for  he  cared  not  how  mean  he  was,  so  he  might  be 
happy  at  last.  Yea,  I  think  there  was  a  kind  of 
sympathy  betwixt  that  valley  and  him,  for  I  never 
saw  him  better  in  all  his  pilgrimage  than  he  was  in 
that  valley. 

Here  he  would  lie  down,  embrace  the  ground, 
and  kiss  the  very  flowers  that  grew  in  this  valley.^ 
He  would  now  be  up  every  morning  by  break 
of  day,  tracing  and  walking  to  and  fro  in  the 
valley. 

But  when  he  was  come  to  the  entrance  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I  thought  I  should 
have  lost  my  man  :  not  for  that  he  had  any  inclina- 
tion to  go  back  ;  that  he  always  abhorred  ;  but  he 
was  ready  to  die  for  fear.  Oh,  the  hobgoblins  will 
have  me  !  the  hobgoblins  will  have  me  !  cried  he ; 
and  I  could  not  beat  him  out  on't.  He  made  such  a 
noise  and  such  an  outcry  here,  that  had  they  but 
heard  him,  it  was  enough  to  encourage  them  to  come 
and  fall  upon  us. 

But  this  I  took  very  great  notice  of,  that  this  val- 
ley was  as  quiet  when  he  went  through  it,  as  ever  I 
knew  it  before  or  since.  I  suppose  those  enemies 
^  Lam.  iii.  27-29. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  405 

heie  had  now  a  special  check  from  our  Lord,  and  a 
command  not  to  meddle  until  Air.  Fearing  had 
passed  over  it. 

It  would  be  too  tedious  to  tell  you  of  all :  we  will 
therefore  only  mention  a  passage  or  two  more. 
When  he  was  come  to  Vanity  Fair,  I  thought  he 
would  have  fought  with  all  the  men  in  the  fair.  I 
feared  there  we  should  have  been  both  knocked  on 
the  head,  so  hot  was  he  against  their  fooleries. 
Upon  the  enchanted  ground  he  was  very  wakeful. 
But  when  he  was  come  at  the  river  where  was  no 
bridge,  there  again  he  was  in  a  heavy  case. 

Now,  now,  he  said,  he  should  be  drowned  for 
ever,  and  so  never  see  that  face  with  comfort,  that 
he  had  come  so  many  niiles  to  behold. 

And  here  also  I  took  notice  of  what  was  very  re- 
markable ; — the  water  of  that  river  was  lower  at  this 
time  than  ever  I  saw  it  in  all  my  life  ;  so  he  went 
over  at  last,  not  much  above  wetshod.  When  he 
was  going  up  to  the  gate,  I  began  to  take  leave  of 
him,  and  to  wish  him  a  good  reception  above.  So 
he  said,  I  shall,  I  shall.  Then  parted  we  asunder 
and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

Hon.  Then  it  seems  he  was  well  at  last.'' 

Great.  Yes,  yes,  I  never  had  doubt  about  him. 
He  was  a  man  of  a  choice  spirit,  only  he  was  alwa\s 
kept  very  lov^,  and  that  made  his  life  so  burdensome 


4o6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

to  himself,  and  so  troublesome  to  others.^  He  was, 
above  many,  tender  of  sin  :  he  was  so  afraid  of  do- 
ing injuries  to  others,  that  he  often  would  deny  him- 
self of  that  which  was  lawful,  because  he  would  not 
oflend,^ 

Hon.  But  what  should  be  the  reason  that  such  a 
good  man  should  be  all  his  days  so  much  in  the 
dark? 

Great.  There  are  two  sorts  of  reasons  for  it. 
One  is,  the  wise  God  will  have  it  so :  some  must 
pipe,  and  some  must  weep.^  Now  Mr.  Fearing  was 
one  that  played  upon  the  bass.  He  and  his  fellows 
sound  the  sackbut,  whose  notes  are  more  doleful 
than  the  notes  of  other  music  are  ;  though  indeed 
some  say,  the  bass  is  the  ground  of  music.  And  for 
my  part,  I  care  not  at  all  for  that  profession  that  be- 
gins not  in  heaviness  of  mind.  The  first  string  that 
the  musician  usually  touches,  is  the  bass,  when  he 
intends  to  put  all  in  tune.  God  also  plays  upon  this 
string  first,  when  he  sets  the  soul  in  tune  for  himself. 
Only  there  was  the  imperfection  of  Mr.  Fearing  ;  he 
could  play  upon  no  other  music  but  this,  till  towards 
his  latter  end. 

[I  make  bold  to  talk  thus  metaphorically  for  the 
I'ipening  of  the  wits  of  young  readers,  and  because 

•  Ps.  Ixxxviii.  2  Rom.  xiv.  2i ;  i  Cor.  viii.  13. 

Matt  xi.  16,  17. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  407 

in  the  book  of  the  Revekition,  the  saved  are  com- 
pared to  a  company  of  musicians,  that  play  upon 
their  trumpets  and  harps,  and  sing  their  songs  before 
the  throne.'] 

Hon.  He  was  a  very  zealous  man,  as  one  may 
see  by  that  relation  which  you  have  given  of  him. 
Difficulties,  lions,  or  Vanity  Fair,  he  feared  not  at 
all  ;  it  was  only  sin,  death,  and  hell,  that  were  to 
him  a  terror,  because  he  had  some  doubts  about  his 
interest  in  that  Celestial  Country. 

Great.  You  say  right;  those  were  the  things 
that  were  his  troublers :  and  they,  as  you  have  well 
observed,  arose  from  the  weakness  of  his  mind  there- 
about, not  from  weakness  of  spirit  as  to  the  practical 
part  of  a  pilgrim's  life.  I  dare  believe  that,  as  the 
proverb  is,  he  could  have  bit  a  firebrand,  had  it 
stood  in  his  way  ;  but  the  things  with  which  he  was 
oppressed,  no  man  ever  yet  could  shake  off  with 
ease. 

Then  said  Christiana,  This  relation  of  Mr.  Fear- 
ing has  done  me  good  ;  I  thought  nobody  had  been 
like  me.  But  I  see  there  was  some  semblance  be- 
twixt this  good  man  and  me :  only  we  differed  in 
two  things.  His  troubles  were  so  great,  that  they 
broke  out ;  but  mine  I  kept  within.  His  also  lay  so 
hard  upon  him,  they  made  him  that  he  could  not 
^  Rev.  V.  8 ;  xiv.  2,  3. 


4o8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

knock  at  the  houses  provided  for  entertainment ;  but 
my  trouble  was  always  such  as  made  me  knock  the 
louder. 

Mer.  If  I  might  also  speak  my  heart,  I  must  say 
that  something  of  him  has  also  dwelt  in  me.  For 
I  have  ever  been  more  afraid  of  the  lake,  and  the 
loss  of  a  place  in  paradise,  than  I  have  been  of  the 
loss  of  other  things.  Oh,  thought  I,  may  I  have  the 
happiness  to  have  a  habitation  there  !  'Tis  enough, 
though  I  part  with  all  the  world  to  win  it. 

Then  said  Matthew,  Fear  was  one  thing  that  made 
me  think  that  I  was  far  from  having  that  within  me 
that  accompanies  salvation.  But  if  it  was  so  with 
such  a  good  man  as  he,  why  may  it  not  also  go  well 
with  me.'' 

No  fears,  no  grace,  said  James.  Though  there  is 
not  always  grace  where  there  is  the  fear  of  hell,  yet 
to  be  sure  there  is  no  grace  where  there  is  no  fear  of 
God. 

Great.  Well  said,  James,  thou  hast  hit  the  mark. 
For  the  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  ; 
and  to  be  sure  they  that  want  the  beginning  have 
neither  middle  nor  end.  But  we  will  here  con- 
clude our  discourse  of  Mr.  Fearing,  after  we  have 
sent  after  him  this  farewell. 

Well,  Master  Fearing,  thou  didst  fear 
Thy  God,  and  wast  afraid 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  409 

Of  doing  a  lything,  while  here, 

That  would  have  thee  betrayed. 
And  didst  thou  fear  the  lake  and  pit  ? 

Would  others  did  so  too  ! 
For,  as  for  them  that  want  thy  wit, 

They  do  themselves  undo. 

Now,  I  saw  that  they  still  went  on  in  their  talk. 
For  after  jMr.  Great-heart  had  made  an  end  with 
Mr.  Fearing,  Mr.  Honest  began  to  tell  them  of  an- 
other, but  his  name  was  Mr.  Self-will.  Fie  pre- 
tended himself  to  be  a  pilgrim,  said  Mr.  Honest ; 
but  I  persuade  myself  he  never  came  in  at  the  gate 
that  stands  at  the  head  of  the  way. 

Great.  Had  you  ever  any  talk  with  him  about 

it.? 

Hon.  Yes,  more  than  once  or  twice ;  but  he 
would  always  be  like  himself,  self-willed.  He 
neither  cared  for  man,  nor  argument,  nor  yet  exam- 
ple ;  what  his  mind  prompted  him  to,  that  he  would 
do,  and  nothing  else  could  he  be  got  to  do. 

Great.  Pray  what  principles  did  he  hold  .'*  for  I 
suppose  you  can  tell. 

Hon.  He  held,  that  a  man  might  follow  the  vices 
as  well  as  the  virtues  of  the  pilgrims  ;  and  that  if  he 
did  both,  he  should  be  certainly  saved. 

Great.  How.''  If  he  had  said,  it  is  possible  for 
the  best  to  be  guilty  o^  the  vices,  as  well  as  partake 


41 0  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

of  the  virtues  of  pilgrims,  he  could  not  much  have 
been  blamed ;  for  indeed  we  are  exempted  from  no 
vice  absolutely,  but  on  condition  that  we  watch  and 
strive.  But  this  I  perceive  is  not  the  thing  ;  but  if  I 
understand  you  right,  your  meaning  is,  that  he  was 
of  opinion,  that  it  was  allowable  so  to  be. 

Hon.  Ay,  ay,  so  I  mean,  and  so  he  believed  and 
practised. 

Great.  But  what  grounds  had  he  for  his  so 
saying.? 

Hon.  Why,  he  said  he  had  the  Scripture  for  his 
warrant. 

Great.  Pr'ythee,  Mr.  Honest,  present  us  with  a 
few  particulars. 

Hon.  So  I  will.  He  said,  to  have  to  do  witl> 
other  men's  wives  had  been  practised  by  David, 
God's  beloved  ;  and  therefore  he  could  do  it.  He 
said,  to  have  more  women  than  one  was  a  thing  that 
Solomon  practised,  and  therefore  he  could  do  it. 
He  said,  that  Sarah  and  the  godly  midwives  of 
Egypt  lied,  and  so  did  saved  Rahab,  and  therefore 
he  could  do  it.  He  said,  that  the  disciples  went  at 
the  bidding  of  their  Master,  and  took  away  the 
owner's  ass,  and  therefore  he  could  do  so  too.  He 
said,  that  Jacob  got  the  inheritance  of  his  father  in 
a  way  of  guile  and  dissimulation,  and  therefore  he 
could  do  so  too. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  411 

Great.  High  base  indeed !  And  are  you  sure 
he  was  of  this  opinion? 

Hox.  I  have  heard  him  plead  for  it,  bring  Scrip- 
ture for  it,  bring  arguments  for  it,  etc. 

Great.  An  opinion  that  is  not  fit  to  be  with  any 
allowance  in  the  world  ! 

Hox.  You  must  understand  me  rightly :  he  did 
not  say  that  any  man  might  do  this ;  but  that  they 
who  had  the  virtues  of  those  that  did  such  things, 
might  also  do  the  same. 

Great.  But  what  more  false  than  such  a  conclu- 
sion? For  this  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  because 
good  men  heretofore  have  sinned  of  infirmity,  there- 
fore he  had  allowance  to  do  it  of  a  presumptuous 
mind  :  or  that  if,  because  a  child,  by  the  blast  of  the 
wind,  or  for  that  it  stumbled  at  a  stone,  fell  down 
and  defiled  itself  in  the  mire,  therefore  he  might 
wilfully  lie  down  and  wallow  like  a  boar  therein. 
Who  could  have  thought  that  any  one  could  so  far 
have  been  blinded  by  the  power  of  lust?  But  what 
is  written  must  be  true  ; — they  "  stumble  at  the  word, 
being  disobedient,  whereunto  they  also  were  ap- 
pointed."^ His  supposing  that  such  may  have  the 
godly  men's  virtues,  who  addict  themselves  to  their 
vices,  is  also  a  delusion  as  strong  as  the  other.  'Tis 
just  rs  if  the  dog  should  say,  I  have,  or  may  have, 
1  I  Pet.  ii.  a 


412  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  qualities  of  the  child,  because  I  lick  up  its  stink- 
ing excrements.  To  eat  up  the  sin  of  God's  peo- 
j^le/  is  no  sign  of  one  that  is  possessed  with  their 
virtues.  Nor  can  I  believe  that  one  that  is  of  this 
opinion,  can  at  present  have  faith  or  love  in  him. 
But  I  know  you  have  made  some  strong  objections 
against  him  ;  pr'ythee  what  can  he  say  for  himself.'' 

Hon.  Why,  he  says,  to  do  this  by  way  of  opinion 
seems  abundantly  more  honest  than  to  do  it,  and  yet 
hold  contrary  to  it  in  opinion. 

Great.  A  very  wicked  answer.  For,  though  to 
let  loose  the  bridle  to  lusts,  while  our  opinions  are 
against  such  things,  is  bad ;  yet  to  sin,  and  plead  a 
toleration  so  to  do,  is  worse :  the  one  stumbles  be- 
holders accidentally,  the  other  leads  them  into  the 
snare. 

Hon.  There  are  many  of  this  man's  mind,  that 
have  not  this  man's  mouth  ;  and  that  makes  going 
on  pilgrimage  of  so  little  esteem  as  it  is. 

Great.  You  have  said  the  truth,  and  it  is  to  be 
lamented :  but  he  that  feareth  the  King  of  paradise 
shall  come  out  of  them  all. 

Chr.  There  are  strange  opinions  in  the  world.  I 
know  one  who  said  it  was  time  enough  to  repent 
when  we  come  to  die. 

Great.  Such  are  not  over-wise  ;  that  man  would 
I  Hos.  iv,  8. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  413 

have  been  loth,  might  he  have  liad  a  week  to  run 
twenty  miles  in  his  life,  to  have  deferred  his  journey 
to  the  last  hour  of  that  week. 

IIox.  You  say  riglit ;  and  yet  the  generality  of 
them  who  count  themselves  pilgrims  do  indeed  do 
thus.  I  am,  as  you  see,  an  old  man,  and  have  been 
a  traveller  in  this  road  many  a  day  ;  and  I  have  taken 
notice  of  many  things. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  set  out  as  if  they  would 
drive  all  the  world  afore  them,  who  yet  have  in  a  few 
days  died  as  they  in  the  wilderness,  and  so  never  got 
sight  of  the  promised  land.  I  have  seen  some  that 
have  promised  nothing  at  first  setting  out  to  be  pil- 
grims, and  that  one  would  have  thought  could  not 
have  lived  a  day,  that  have  yet  proved  very  good 
pilgrims.  I  have  seen  some  who  have  run  hastily 
forward,  that  again  have,  after  a  little  time,  run  just 
as  fast  back  again.  I  have  seen  some  who  have 
spoken  very  well  of  a  pilgrim's  life  at  first,  that  after 
a  while  have  spoken  as  much  against  it.  I  have 
heard  some,  when  they  first  set  out  for  paradise,  say 
positively  there  is  such  a  place,  who,  when  they  have 
been  almost  there,  have  come  back  again,  and  said 
there  is  none.  I  have  heard  some  vaunt  wliat  tliey 
would  do  in  case  they  should  be  opposed,  that  have, 
even  at  a  false  alarm,  fled  faith,  the  pilgrim's  way, 
and  all. 


414  THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

Now,  as  they  were  thus  on  their  way,  there  came 
one  running  to  meet  them,  and  said.  Gentlemen,  and 
you  of  the  weaker  sort,  if  you  love  life,  shift  for 
yourselves,  for  the  robbers  are  before  you. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  They  be  the  three  that 
set  upon  Little-faith  heretofore.  Well,  said  he,  we 
are  ready  for  them  :  so  they  went  on  their  way. 
Now  they  looked  at  every  turning  when  they  should 
have  met  with  the  villains  ;  but  whether  they  heard 
of  Mr.  Great-heart,  or  whether  they  had  some  other 
game,  they  came  not  up  to  the  pilgrims. 

Christiana  then  wished  for  an  inn  to  refresh  her- 
self and  her  children,  because  they  were  weary. 
Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  There  is  one  a  little  before 
us,  where  a  very  b.onourable  disciple,  one  Gains, 
dwells.^  So  they  all  concluded  to  turn  in  thither ; 
and  the  rather,  because  the  old  gentleman  gave  him 
so  good  a  report.  When  they  came  to  the  door, 
they  went  in,  not  knocking,  for  folks  use  not  to 
knock  at  the  door  of  an  inn.  Then  they  called  for 
the  master  of  the  house,  and  he  came  to  them.  So 
they  asked  if  they  might  lie  there  that  night. 

Gaius.  Yes,  gentlemen,  if  you  be  true  men,  for 

my   house   is   for  none   but  pilgrims.      Then   were 

Christiana,  Mercy,  and  the  boys  the  more  glad,  for 

that  the  innkeeper  was  a  lover  of  pilgrims.     So  they 

^  Rom.  xvi.  23. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  415 

called  for  rooms,  and  he  showed  them  one  for  Chris- 
tiana and  her  children  and  jSIercy,  and  another  for 
Mr,  Great-heart  and  the  old  gentleman. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Good  Gains,  what 
hast  thou  for  supper?  for  these  pilgrims  have  come 
far  to-day,  and  are  weary. 

It  is  late,  said  Gains,  so  w'e  cannot  conveniently 
go  out  to  seek  food  ;  but  such  as  we  have  you  shall 
be  welcome  to,  if  that  will  content. 

Great.  We  will  be  content  with  what  thou  hast 
in  the  house  ;  for  as  much  as  I  have  proved  thee, 
thou  art  never  destitute  of  that  which  is  convenient. 

Then  he  went  down  and  spake  to  the  cook,  whose 
name  was  Taste-that-which-is-good,  to  get  ready 
supper  for  so  many  pilgrims.  This  done,  he  comes 
up  again,  saying.  Come,  my  good  friends,  you  are 
welcome  to  me,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  a  house 
to  entertain  you  in  ;  and  while  supper  is  making 
ready,  if  you  please,  let  us  entertain  one  another 
with  some  good  discourse  :  so  they  all  said,  Content. 

Then  said  Gains,  Whose  wife  is  this  aged  matron .? 
and  whose  daughter  is  this  young  damsel .? 

Great.  This  woman  is  the  wife  of  one  Christian, 
a  pilgrim  of  former  times ;  and  these  are  his  four 
children.  The  maid  is  one  of  her  acquaintance,  one 
that  she  hath  persuaded  to  come  with  her  on  pil- 
grimage.    The  boys  take  all  after  their  father,  and 


4l6  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

covet  to  tread  in  his  steps ;  yea,  if  they  do  but  see 
any  place  where  the  old  pilgrim  hath  lain,  or  any 
print  of  his  foot,  it  ministereth  joy  to  their  hearts, 
and  they  covet  to  lie  or  tread  in  the  same. 

Then  said  Gaius,  Is  this  Christian's  wife,  and  are 
these  Christian's  children  ?  I  knew  your  husband's 
father,  yea,  also  his  father's  father.  Many  have 
been  good  of  this  stock  ;  their  ancestors  dwelt  first 
at  Antioch/  Christian's  progenitors  (I  suppose  you 
have  heard  your  husband  talk  of  them)  were  very 
worthy  men.  They  have,  above  any  that  I  know, 
showed  themselves  men  of  great  virtue  and  courage, 
for  the  Lord  of  the  pilgrims,  his  ways,  and  them 
that  loved  him.  I  have  heard  of  many  of  your  hus- 
band's relations  that  have  stood  all  trials  for  the  sake 
of  the  truth.  Stephen,  that  was  one  of  the  first  of 
the  family  from  whence  your  husband  sprang,  was 
knocked  on  the  head  with  stones.^  James,  another 
of  this  generation,  was  slain  with  the  edge  of  the 
sword.'*  To  say  nothing  of  Paul  and  Peter,  men 
anciently  of  the  family  from  whence  your  husband 
came,  there  was  Ignatius,  who  was  cast  to  the  lions , 
Romanus,  whose  flesh  was  cut  by  pieces  from  his 
bones  ;  and  Polycarp,  that  played  the  man  in  the 
fire.  There  was  he  that  was  hanged  up  in  a  basket 
in  the  sun  for  the  wasps  to  eat ;  and  he  whom 
1  Acts  xi.  26.         2  Acts  vii.  59,  60.  '  Acts  xii.  2. 


THE  PILGJilM'S  PROGRESS.  417 

the}*  put  into  a  sack,  and  cast  into  the  sea  to  be 
di"o\\  Tied.  It  would  be  impossible  utterly  to  count 
up  a!'  of  that  family  that  have  siilVered  injuries  and 
dcatl;  for  the  love  of  a  pilgrim's  lile.  Nor  can  I  but 
be  gUvd  to  see  that  thy  husband  has  left  behind  him 
four  such  boys  as  these.  I  hope  they  will  bear  up 
their  father's  name,  and  tread  in  their  father's  steps, 
and  come  to  their  father's  end. 

Great,  Indeed,  sir,  they  are  likely  lads ;  they 
seem  to  choose  heartily  their  father's  waj's. 

Gaius.  That  is  it  that  I  said.  Wherefore  Chris- 
tian's family  is  like  still  to  spread  abroad  upon  the 
face  of  the  ground,  and  yet  to  be  numerous  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth  ;  let  Christiana  look  out  some  dam- 
sels for  her  sons,  to  whom  they  may  be  betrothed, 
etc.,  that  the  name  of  their  father,  and  the  house 
of  his  progenitors,  may  never  be  forgotten  in  the 
worlil. 

IIox.  'Tis  pity  his  family  should  fall  and  be 
extinct. 

Gaius.  Fall  it  cannot,  but  be  diminished  it  may  ; 
but  let  Christiana  take  my  advice,  and  that  is  the 
way  to  uphold  it.  And,  Christiana,  said  this  inn- 
keeper, I  am  glad  to  see  thee  and  thy  friend  Mercy 
together  here,  a  lovely  couple.  And  if  I  may  ad- 
vise, take  Mercy  into  a  nearer  relation  to  thee :  if 
she  will,  let  her  be  given  to  Matthew  thy  eldest  sen. 
27 


41 8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

It  is  the  way  to  preserve  a  posterity  in  the  earth. 
So  this  match  was  conchided  and  in  jrocess  of 
time  they  were  married,  but  more  of  that  here- 
after. 

Gains  also  proceeded,  and  said,  I  will  now  speak 
on  the  behalf  of  women,  to  take  away  their  reproach. 
For  as  death  and  the  curse  came  into  the  world  by  a 
woman,  so  also  did  life  and  health.  God  sent  forth 
his  Son,  made  of  a  woman. ^  Yea,  to  show  how 
much  they  that  came  after  did  abhor  the  act  of  the 
mother,  this  sex  in  the  Old  Testament  coveted  chil- 
dren, if  happily  this  or  that  woman  might  be  the 
mother  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  I  will  say 
again,  that  when  the  Saviour  was  come,  women  re- 
joiced in  him,  before  either  man  or  angel. '^  I  read 
not  that  ever  any  man  did  give  unto  Christ  so  much 
as  one  groat ;  but  the  women  followed  him,  and 
ministered  to  him  of  their  substance.  'Twas  a 
woman  that  washed  his  feet  with  tears,  and  a 
woman  that  anointed  his  body  to  the  burial.  They 
were  women  that  wept  when  he  was  going  to  the 
cross ;  and  women  that  followed  him  from  the  cross, 
and  that  sat  by  his  sepulchre  when  he  was  buried. 
They  were  women  that  were  first  with  him  at  his 
resurrection  morn  ;  and  women  that  brought  tidings 
first  to  his  disciples  that  he  was  risen  from  the 
»  Gen.  iii. ;  Gal.  iv.  4.  ^  Luke  i.  42-46. 


THE  PILGRIhrS   PROGRESS.  419 

dead.'  Woincu  therefore  are  highly  favoi  red,  and 
show  by  these  things,  that  they  are  sharers  with  us 
in  the  grace  of  life. 

Now  tlie  cook  sent  up  to  signify  that  supper  was 
almost  ready,  and  sent  one  to  lay  the  cloth,  and  the 
trenchers,  and  to  set  the  salt  and  bread  in  order. 

Then  said  Matthew,  The  sight  of  this  cloth,  and 
of  this  forerunner  of  the  supper,  begetteth  in  me  a 
greater  appetite  to  my  food  than  I  had  before. 

Gaius.  So  let  all  ministering  doctrines  to  thee  in 
this  life  beget  in  thee  a  greater  desire  to  sit  at  the 
supper  of  the  great  King  in  his  kingdom  ;  for  all 
preaching,  books,  and  ordinances  here,  are  but  as 
the  laying  of  the  trenchers,  and  the  setting  of  salt 
upon  the  board,  when  compared  with  the  feast  that 
our  Lord  will  make  for  us  when  we  come  to  his 
house. 

So  supper  came  up.  And  first  a  heave-shoulder 
and  a  wave-breast  were  set  on  the  table  before  them  , 
to  show  that  they  must  begin  their  meal  with  prayer 
and  praise  to  God.''  The  heave-shoulder  David 
lifted  up  his  heart  to  God  with  ;  and  with  the  wave- 
breast,  where  his  heart  lay,  he  used  to  lean  upon  his 
harp   when   he   played.      These   two   dishes   were 

1  Luke  vii.  37-50  ;  viii.  2,  3  ;  xxiii.  27  ;  xxiv.  22,  23  ;  John  xi. 
2  ;  xii.  3  ;  Matt,  xxvii.  55-61. 
*  Lev.  vii  32-34;  x.  14,  15  ;  Ps.  xxv.  i  ;  Ileb.  xiii.  15. 


430  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

very  fresh  and  good,  and  they  all  ate  heartily 
thereof. 

The  next  they  brought  up  was  a  bottle  of  wine, 
as  red  as  blood.  So  Gaius  said  to  them,  Drinlv 
freely  ;  this  is  the  true  juice  of  tlie  vine,  that  makes 
glad  the  heart  of  God  and  man.  So  they  drank  and 
were  merry. ^ 

The  next  was  a  dish  of  milk  well  crumbed  :  Gaius 
said.  Let  the  boys  have  that,  that  they  may  grow 
thereby.^ 

Then  they  brought  up  in  course  a  dish  of  butter 
and  honey.  Tiien  said  Gaius,  Eat  freely  of  this,  for 
this  Is  good  to  cheer  up  and  strengthen  your  judg- 
ments and  understandings.  This  was  our  Lord's 
dish  when  he  was  a  child  :  "  Butter  and  honey  shall 
he  eat,  that  he  may  know  how  to  refuse  the  evil,  and 
choose  the  good."^ 

Then  they  brought  them  up  a  dish  of  apples,  and 
they  were  very  good-tasted  fruit.  Then  said  Mat- 
thew, Ma}'  we  eat  apples,  since  they  were  such  by 
and  with  which  the  serpent  beguiled  our  first  mother.'* 

Then  said  Gaius : 

Apples  were  they  with  which  we  were  beguiled, 
Yet  sin,  not  apples,  hath  our  souls  defiled  : 

^  Deut.  xxxii.  14 ;  Judg.  ix.  13  ;  John  xv.  5. 
*  I  Pet.  ii.  I,  2.  3  isa.  vii.  15. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  421 

Apples  forbid,  if  ate,  corrupt  the  blood  ; 
To  eat  such  when  commanded,  does  us  good  : 
Drink  of  his  flagons  then,  thou  church,  his  dove, 
And  eat  his  apples,  who  art  sick  of  love. 

Then  said  Matthew,  I  made  the  scruple,  because 
I  a  wliile  since  was  sick  with  tlie  eating  of  fruit. 

Gaius.  Forbidden  fruit  will  make  you  sick  ;  but 
not  what  our  Lord  has  tolerated. 

While  they  were  thus  talking,  they  were  presented 
with  another  dish,  and  it  was  a  dish  of  nuts.^  Then 
said  some  at  the  table,  Nuts  spoil  lender  teeth,  es- 
pecially the  teeth  of  children  :  which  when  Gaius 
heard,  he  said  : 

Hard  texts  are  nuts  (I  will  not  call  them  cheaters), 
Whose  shells  do  keep  their  kernels  from  the  eaters ; 
Ope  then  the  shells,  and  you  shall  have  the  meat ; 
They  here  are  brought  for  you  to  crack  and  cat. 

Then  were  they  very  merry,  and  sat  at  the  table  a 
long  time,  talking  of  many  things.  Then  said  the 
old  gentleman.  My  good  landlord,  while  we  are 
cracking  your  nuts,  if  you  please,  do  you  open  this 
riddle : 

A  man  there  was,  though  some  did  count  him  mad, 
The  more  he  cast  away,  the  more  he  had. 

Then  they  all  gave  good  heed,  wondering  what 
*  Song  vi.  II. 


422  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

good  Gaius  would  say;  so  he  sat  still  a  while,  and 
then  thi.3  replied  : 

He  who  bestows  his  goods  upon  the  poor, 
Shall  have  as  m  ich  again,  and  ten  time  more. 

Then  said  Joseph,  I  dare  say,  sir,  I  did  not  think 
you  could  have  found  it  out. 

Oh  !  said  Gaius,  I  have  been  trained  up  in  this 
way  a  great  while :  nothing  teaches  like  experience. 
I  have  learned  of  my  Lord  to  be  kind,  and  have 
found  by  experience  that  I  have  gained  thereby. 
There  is  that  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth  ;  and 
there  is  that  withholdeth  more  than  is  meet,  but  it 
tendeth  to  poverty.  There  is  that  maketh  himself 
rich,  yet  hath  nothing:  there  is  that  maketh  himself 
poor,  yet  hath  great  riches.' 

Then  Samuel  whispered  to  Christiana,  his  mother, 
and  said,  Mother,  this  is  a  very  good  man's  house  ; 
let  us  stay  here  a  good  while,  and  let  my  brother 
Matthew  be  married  here  to  Mercy,  before  we  go 
any  further.  The  which  Gaius,  the  host,  overhear- 
ing, said,  With  a  very  good  will,  my  child. 

So    they    stayed    here    more    than   a   month,   and 

Mercy  was  given  to  Matthew  to  wife.     While  they 

stayed  here,  Mercy,  as  her  custom  was,  would  be 

making  coats  and  garments  to   give  to  the   poor, 

*  Prov.  xi,  24 ;  xiii.  7. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  423 

by    \  'hicli    she    brought    a  very    good    report    upon 
pilgrims. 

But  to  return  again  to  our  story.  After  supper, 
the  hids  desired  a  bed,  for  they  were  weary  with 
travelling.  Then  Gaius  called,  to  show  them  their 
chamber ;  but  said  Mercy,  I  will  have  them  to  bed. 
So  she  had  them  to  bed — and  they  slept  well ;  but 
the  rest  sat  up  all  night ;  for  Gaius  and  they  were 
such  suitable  company,  that  they  could  not  tell  how 
to  part.  Then  after  much  talk  of  their  Lord,  them- 
selves, and  their  journey,  old  Mr.  Honest,  he  that 
put  forth  the  riddle  to  Gaius,  began  to  nod.  Then 
said  Great-heart,  What,  sir,  you  begin  to  be  drowsy  ; 
come,  rub  up  now,  here  is  a  riddle  for  you.  Then 
said  Mr.  Honest,  Let  us  hear  it.  Then  said  Mr, 
Great-heart : 

He  that  would  kill,  must  first  be  overcome  : 
Who  live  abroad  would,  first  must  die  at  home. 

Ha  !  said  Mr.  Honest,  it  is  a  hard  one  ;  hard  to 
expound,  and  harder  to  practice.  But,  come,  land- 
lord, said  he,  I  will,  if  you  please,  leave  my  part 
to  you  ;  do  you  expound  it,  and  I  will  hear  what  you 
say. 

No,  said  Gaius,  it  was  put  to  you,  and  'tis  ex- 
pected you  should  answer  it.  Then  said  the  ol(jl 
gentlen  an  • 


/\2^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

He  first  by  grace  must  conquered  be, 

That  sin  would  mortify  : 
Who  that  he  lives  would  convince  me, 

Unto  himself  must  die. 

It  is  right,  said  Gaius  ;  good  doctrine  and  experi- 
ence teach  this.  For,  first,  until  grace  displays  it- 
self, and  overcomes  the  soul  with  its  glory,  it  is  alto- 
gether without  heart  to  oppose  sin.  Besides,  if  sin 
is  Satan's  cords,  by  which  the  soul  lies  bound,  how 
should  it  make  resistance  before  it  is  loosed  from 
that  infirmity.''  Secondly,  Nor  will  any  that  know 
either  reason  or  grace,  believe  that  such  a  man  can 
be  a  living  monument  of  grace,  that  is  a  slave  to  his 
own  corruptions.  And  now  it  comes  into  my  mind, 
I  will  tell  you  a  story  worth  the  hearing.  There 
were  two  men  that  went  on  pilgrimage  ;  the  one 
began  when  he  was  young,  the  other  when  he  was 
old.  The  young  man  had  strong  corruptions  to 
grapple  with  ;  the  old  man's  were  weak  with  the 
decays  of  nature.  The  young  man  trod  his  steps 
as  even  as  did  the  old  one,  and  was  every  way  as 
light  as  he.  Who  now,  or  which  of  them,  had 
their  graces  shining  clearest,  since  both  seemed  to 
be  alike? 

Hon.  The  young  man's,  doubtless.  For  that 
which  heads  it  against  the  greatest  opposition,  gives 
best  demonstration   that   it   is  strongest ;   especially 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  425 

when  it  also  holclcth  pace  with  that  which  meets  not 
with  half  so  much,  as,  to  be  sure,  old  age  dcjes  not. 
Besides,  I  have  observed  that  old  men  have  blessed 
themselves  with  this  mistake  ;  namely,  taking  the 
decays  of  nature  for  a  gracious  conquest  over  cor- 
ruptions, and  so  have  been  apt  to  beguile  themselves. 
Indeed,  old  men  that  are  gracious  are  best  able  to 
give  advice  to  them  that  are  young,  because  they 
have  seen  most  of  the  emptiness  of  things :  but  yet, 
for  an  old  and  a  young  man  to  set  out  both  together, 
the  young  one  has  the  advantage  of  the  fairest  dis- 
covery of  a  work  of  grace  within  liim,  though  the 
old  man's  corruptions  are  naturally  the  weakest. 
Thus  tliey  sat  talking  till  break  of  day. 

Now,  when  the  family  were  up,  Christiana  bid 
her  son  James  that  he  should  read  a  chapter ;  so  he 
read  the  53d  of  Isaiah.  When  he  had  done,  Mr. 
Honest  asked  why  it  was  that  the  Saviour  is  said  to 
'*  come  out  of  a  dry  g-routtd"  and  also,  that  "^e 
had  no  forjii  nor  comeliness  in  him." 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  To  the  first  I  answer. 
Because  the  church  of  the  Jews,  of  which  Christ 
caine,  had  then  lost  almost  all  the  sap  and  spirit  of 
religion.  To  the  second  I  say,  The  words  are 
spoken  in  the  person  of  unbelievers,  who,  because 
they  want  the  eye  that  can  see  into  our  Prince's 
he 'rt,  therefore  judge  of  him  by  the  meanness  of  his 


436  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROG  RE  SS. 

outside,  just  like  those  that  know  not  that  precious 
stones^  are  covered  over  with  a  homely  crust,  who, 
when  they  have  found  one,  because  they  know  not 
what  they  have  found,  cast  it  away  again,  as  men  do 
a  common  stone. 

Well,  said  Gains,  now  you  are  here,  and  since,  as 
I  know,  Mr.  Great-heart  is  good  at  his  weapons,  if 
you  please,  after  we  have  refreshed  ourselves,  we 
will  walk  into  the  fields,  to  see  if  we  can  do  any 
good.  About  a  mile  from  hence  there  is  one  Slay- 
good,  a  giant,  that  does  much  annoy  the  King's 
highway  in  these  parts  ;  and  I  know  whereabout  his 
haunt  is.  He  is  master  of  a  number  of  thieves : 
'twould  be  well  if  we  could  clear  these  parts  of  him. 
So  they  consented  and  went ;  Mr.  Great-heart  with 
his  sword,  helmet  and  shield ;  and  the  rest  with 
spears  and  staves. 

When  they  came  to  the  place  where  he  was,  they 
found  him  with  one  Feeble-mind  in  his  hand,  whom 
his  servants  had  brought  unto  him,  having  taken  him 
in  the  way.  Now  the  giant  was  rifling  him,  with  a 
purpose  after  that  to  pick  his  bones ;  for  he  was  of 
the  nature  of  flesh-eaters. 

Well,  so  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his 
friends  at  the  mouth  of  his  cave,  with  their  weapons, 
he  demanded  what  they  wanted. 

Gheat.  We  want  thee  ;  for  we  are  come  to  re- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  ^27 

venge  the  quarrels  of  the  many  tliat  thou  hast  slain 
of  the  pilgrims,  when  thou  hast  dragged  them  out 
of  the  King's  highway :  wherefore  come  out  of  the 
cave.  So  he  armed  himself  and  came  out,  and  to 
battle  they  went,  and  fought  for  above  an  hour,  and 
then  stood  still  to  take  wind. 

Then  said  the  giant,  Why  are  you  here  on  my 
ground  ? 

Great.  To  revenge  the  blood  of  pilgrims,  as  I 
told  thee  before.  So  they  went  to  it  again,  and  the 
giant  made  Mr.  Great-heart  give  back  :  but  he  came 
up  again,  and  in  the  greatness  of  his  mind  he  let  fly 
with  such  stoutness  at  the  giant's  head  and  sides, 
that  he  made  him  let  his  weapon  fall  out  of  his  hand. 
So  he  smote  him,  and  slew  him,  and  cut  oft'  his 
head,  and  brought  it  away  to  the  inn.  He  also  took 
Feeble-mind  the  pilgrim,  and  brought  him  with  him 
to  his  lodgings.  When  they  were  come  home,  they 
showed  his  head  to  the  family,  and  set  it  up,  as  they 
had  done  others  before,  for  a  terror  to  those  that 
should  attempt  to  do  as  he  hereafter. 

Then  they  asked  Mr.  Feeble-mind  how  he  fell  into 
his  hands. 

Then  said  the  poor  man,  I  am  a  sickly  man,  as 
you  see :  and  because  death  did  usually  once  a-day 
knock  at  my  door,  I  thought  I  should  never  be  well 
at  home ;  so  I  betook  myself  to  a  pilgrim's  life,  and 


42S  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

have  travelled  hither  from  the  town  of  Uncertain, 
wliere  I  and  my  father  were  born.  I  am  a  man  of 
no  strength  at  all  of  body,  nor  yet  of  mind,  but 
would,  if  I  could,  though  I  can  but  crawl,  spend  my 
life  in  the  pilgrim's  way.  When  I  came  at  the  gate 
that  is  at  the  head  of  the  way,  the  Lord  of  that 
place  did  entertain  me  freely ;  neither  objected  he 
against  my  weakly  looks,  nor  against  my  feeble 
mind  ;  but  gave  me  such  things  as  were  necessary 
for  my  journey,  and  bid  me  hope  to  the  end.  When 
I  came  to  the  house  of  the  Interpreter,  I  received 
much  kindness  there :  and  because  the  hill  of  Diffi- 
culty was  judged  too  hard  for  me,  I  was  carried  up 
that  by  one  of  his  servants.  Indeed,  I  have  found 
much  relief  from  pilgrims,  though  none  were  willing 
to  go  so  softly  as  I  am  forced  to  do  :  yet  still,  as  they 
came  on,  they  bid  me  be  of  good  cheer,  and  said, 
that  it  was  the  will  of  their  Lord  that  comfort  should 
be  given  to  the  feeble-minded,^  and  so  went  on  their 
own  pace.  When  I  was  come  to  Assault-lane,  then 
this  giant  met  with  me,  and  bid  me  prepare  for  an 
encounter.  But,  alas !  feeble  one  that  I  was,  I  had 
more  need  of  a  cordial ;  so  he  came  up  and  took 
me.  I  conceited  he  should  not  kill  me.  Also  when 
he  got  me  into  his  den,  since  I  Vt'ent  not  with  him 
wi51i  ■'gly,  I  believed  I  should  come  out  alive  again  ; 
^  I  Thess.  V.  14. 


THE  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS.  429 

for  I  have  heard,  that  not  any  pilgrim  that  is  taken 
captive  by  violent  hands,  if  he  keeps  heait  whole 
towards  his  Master,  is,  by  the  laws  of  providence,  to 
die  by  the  hand  of  the  eneiny.  Robbed  I  looked  to 
be,  and  robbed  to  be  sure  I  am  ;  but  I  am,  as  you 
see,  escaped  with  life,  for  the  which  I  thank  my 
King  as  the  author,  and  you  as  the  means.  Other 
brunts  I  also  look  for  ;  but  this  I  have  resolved  on, 
to  wit,  to  run  when  I  can,  to  go  when  I  cannot  run, 
and  to  creep  when  I  cannot  go.  As  to  the  main,  I 
thank  Him  that  loved  me,  I  am  fixed  ;  my  way  is 
before  me,  my  mind  is  beyond  the  river  that  has  no 
bridge,  though  I  am,  as  you  see,  but  of  a  feeble 
mind. 

Then  said  old  JMr.  Honest,  Have  not  you  some 
time  ago  been  acquainted  with  one  Air.  Fearing  a 
pilgrim  ? 

Feeble.  Acquainted  with  him  !  Yes,  he  came 
from  the  town  of  Stupidity,  which  lieth  four  degrees 
to  the  northward  of  the  city  of  Destruction,  and  as 
many  off  of  where  I  was  born  ;  yet  we  were  well 
acquainted,  for  indeed  he  was  my  uncle,  my  father's 
brother.  He  and  I  have  been  much  of  a  temper : 
he  was  a  little  shorter  than  I,  but  yet  we  were  much 
of  a  complexion. 

Hox.  I  perceive  you  knew  him,  and  I  am  apt  to 
believe  also  that  you  were  related  one  to  another ; 


430  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

for  you  have  his  whitely  look,  a  cast  like  his  with 
your  eye,  and  your  speech  is  much  alike. 

FEEBI.E.  Most  have  said  so  that  have  know^n  us 
both  ;  and,  besides,  what  I  have  read  in  him  I  have 
for  the  most  part  found  in  myself. 

Come,  sir,  said  good  Gains,  be  of  good  cheer ; 
you  are  welcome  to  me  and  my  house.  What  thou 
hast  a  mind  to,  call  for  freely ;  and  what  thou 
wouldst  have  my  servants  do  for  thee,  they  will  do 
it  with  a  ready  mind. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  This  is  an  unexpected 
favour,  and  as  the  sun  shining  out  of  a  very  dark 
cloud.  Did  giant  Slay-good  intend  me  this  favour 
when  he  stopped  me,  and  resolved  to  let  me  go  no 
further.?  Did  he  intend,  that  after  he  had  rifled  my 
pockets,  I  should  go  to  Gaius  mine  host.?  Yet  so  it 
is. 

Now  just  as  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Gaius  were 
thus  in  talk,  there  comes  one  running,  and  called 
at  the  door,  and  said.  That  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
oft'  there  was  one  Mr.  Not-right,  a  pilgrim,  struck 
dead  upon  the  place  where  he  was,  with  a  thunder- 
bolt. 

Alas !  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  is  he  slain }  He 
overtook  me  some  days  before  I  came  so  far  as 
hither,  and  would  be  my  company-keeper.  He  was 
also  with  me  when  Slay-good  the  giant  took  me,  but 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  431 

he  was  nimble  of   his  heels,   and   escaped :    but   it 
seems  he  escaped  to  die,  and  I  was  taken  to  live. 

What  one  would  think  doth  seek  to  slay  outright, 

Ofttimes  delivers  from  the  saddest  plight. 

That  very  Providence  whose  face  is  death, 

Doth  ofttimes  to  the  lowly  life  bequeath. 

I  taken  was,  he  did  escape  and  flee  ; 

Hands  crossed  gave  death  to  him,  and  life  to  me. 

Now,  about  this  time,  Matthew  and  Mercy  were 
married  ;  also  Gains  ga\x  his  daughter  Phebe  to 
James,  Matthew's  brother,  to  wife ;  after  which 
time,  they  yet  stayed  about  ten  days  at  Gaius's 
house,  spending  their  time  and  tlie  seasons  like  as 
pilgrims  use  to  do. 

When  they  were  to  depart.  Gains  made  them  a 
feast,  and  the}^  did  eat  and  drink,  and  were  merry. 
Now  the  hoin-  was  come  that  they  must  be  gone  ; 
wherefore  Mr.  Great-heart  called  for  a  reckoning. 
But  Gaius  told  him,  that  at  his  house  it  was  not  the 
custom  of  pilgrims  to  pay  for  their  entertainment. 
He  boarded  them  by  the  year,  but  looked  for  his  pay 
from  the  good  Samaritan,  who  had  promised  him,  at 
his  return,  whatsoever  charge  he  was  at  witli  theni, 
faithfully  to  repay  him.^  Then  said  Mr.  Greac- 
heart  to  him  : 

1  Luke  X.  34,  35. 


432  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Great.  "  Beloved,  thou  doest  faithfully,  whatso- 
ever thou  doest  to  the  brethren,  and  to  strangers, 
which  have  borne  witness  of  thy  charity  before  the 
cliurch  :  whom  if  thou  yet  bring  forward  on  their 
journey  after  a  godly  sort,  thou  shalt  do  well." ' 
Then  Gaius  took  leave  of  them  all,  and  his  children, 
and  particularly  of  Mr.  Feeble-mind.  He  also  gave 
him  something  to  drink  by  the  way.  Now  M? . 
Feeble-mind,  when  they  were  going  out  of  the  door, 
made  as  if  he  intended  to  linger.  The  which  when 
Mr.  Great-heart  espied,  he  said.  Come,  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind,  pray  do  you  go  along  with  us  ;  I  will  be  your 
conductor,  and  you  shall  fare  as  the  rest. 

Feeble.  Alas !  I  want  a  suitable  companion. 
You  are  all  lusty  and  strong,  but  I,  as  you  see,  am 
weak  ;  I  choose  therefore  rather  to  come  behind, 
lest,  by  reason  of  my  many  infirmities,  I  should  be 
both  a  burden  to  myself  and  to  you.  I  am,  as  I 
said,  a  man  of  a  weak  and  feeble  mind,  and  shall  be 
offended  and  made  weak  at  that  which  others  can 
bear.  I  shall  like  no  laughing ;  I  shall  like  no  gay 
attire  ;  I  shall  like  no  unprofitable  questions.  Nay, 
I  am  so  weak  a  man  as  to  be  ofiended  with  that 
'vhich  others  have  a  liberty  to  do.  I  do  not  yet 
know  all  the  truth  :  I  am  a  very  ignorant  Christian 
man.  Sometimes,  if  I  hear  some  rejoice  in  the 
J  3  John  5,  6. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  433 

Lord,  it  troubles  me  because  I  cannot  do  so  too.  It 
is  with  me  as  it  is  with  a  weak  man  among  the 
strong,  or  as  with  a  sick  man  among  tlie  health3\  or 
as  a  himp  despised  (''  He  that  is  ready  to  slip  with 
his  feet  is  as  a  lamp  despised  in  the  thought  of 
him  that  is  at  ease'")  ;  so  that  I  know  not  what 
to  do. 

But,  brother,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  have  it  in 
commission  to  comfort  the  feeble-minded,  and  to 
support  the  weak.  You  must  needs  go  along  with 
us  ;  we  will  wait  for  you  ;  we  will  lend  you  our  help  ; 
we  will  deny  ourselves  of  some  things,  both  opinion- 
ative  and  practical,  for  your  sake  :  we  will  not  enter 
into  doubtful  disputations  before  you  ;  we  will  be 
made  all  things  to  you,  rather  than  you  shall  be 
left  behind." 

Now,  all  this  while  they  were  at  Gaius's  door ; 
and  behold,  as  they  were  thus  in  the  heat  of  their 
discourse,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  came  by,  with  his 
crutches  in  his  hand,  and  he  also  was  going  on  pil- 
grimage.'^ 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind  to  him,  Man,  how 
camest  thou  hither.?  I  was  but  now  complaining 
that  I  had  not  a  suitable  companion,  but  thou  art 
according  to   my   wish.     Welcome,  welcome,  good 

'  Job  xii.  5.  2  Roni.  .\=v.  j  i  Cor.  viii. 

•  Ps.  xxxviii.  17. 
28 


434  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  I   hope  thou   and  I  may  be  some 
help. 

I  shall  be  glad  of  thy  company,  said  the  other  ; 
and,  good  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  rather  than  we  will 
part,  since  we  are  thus  happily  met,  I  will  lend  thee 
one  of  my  crutches. 

Nay  said  he,  though  I  thank  thee  for  thy  good 
will,  I  am  not  inclined  to  halt  before  I  am  lame 
Howbeit,  I  think,  when  occasion  is,  it  may  help  me 
against  a  dog. 

Ready.  If  either  myself  or  my  crutches  can  do 
thee  a  pleasure,  we  are  both  at  thy  command,  good 
Mr.  Feeble-mind. 

Thus  therefore  they  went  on.  Mr.  Great-heart 
and  Mr.  Honest  went  before,  Christiana  and  her 
children  went  next,  and  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Mr. 
Ready-to-halt  came  behind,  with  his  crutches.  Then 
said  Mr.  Honest,  Pray,  sir,  now  we  are  upon  the 
road,  tell  us  some  profitable  things  of  some  that  have 
gone  on  pilgrimage  before  us. 

Great.  With  a  good  will.  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  how  Christian  of  old  did  meet  with  Apollyou 
in  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  and  also  what  hard 
work  he  had  to  go  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death.  Also  I  think  you  cannot  but  have  heart 
how  Faithful  was  put  to  it  by  Madam  Wanton,  witl 
Adam  the  First,  with  one  Discontent,  and  Shame, 


THE  PILGRIM-S  PROGRESS.  435 

four  as  deceitful  villains  as  a  inaii  can  meet  with 
upon  the  road. 

Hon.  Yes,  I  believe  I  have  heard  of  all  this  ;  but 
indeed  good  Faithful  was  hardest  put  to  it  with 
Shame  :  he  was  an  unwearied  one. 

Great.  Ay ;  for,  as  the  pilgrim  well  said,  he  of 
all  men  had  the  wrong  name. 

Hon.  But  pray,  sir,  where  was  it  that  Christian 
and  Faithful  met  Talkative?  That  same  was  also  a 
notable  one. 

Great.  He  was  a  confident  fool ;  yet  many  fol- 
low his  ways. 

Hon.  He  had  like  to  have  beguiled  Faithful. 

Great.  Ay,  but  Christian  put  him  into  a  way 
quickly  to  find  him  out. 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  place 
where  Evangelist  met  with  Christian  and  Faithful, 
and  prophesied  to  them  what  should  befall  them  at 
Vanity  Fair.  Then  said  their  guide,  Hereabouts  did 
Christian  and  Faithful  meet  with  Evangelist,  who 
prophesied  to  them  of  what  troubles  they  should 
meet  with  at  Vanity  Fair. 

Hon.  Say  you  so.-*  I  dare  say  it  was  a  hard 
chapter  that  then  he  did  read  unto  them. 

Great.  'Twas  so  ;  but  he  gave  them  encourage- 
ment withal.  But  what  do  we  talk  of  them  ?  They 
were  a  couple  of  lion -like   men  ;  they  had   set  their 


4j^  the  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

faces  .ike  flint.  Do  not  you  remember  how  un- 
dauniCvi  they  were  when  they  stood  before  the  judge? 

Hon.  Well :  Faithful  bravely  suffered. 

Great.  So  he  did,  and  as  brave  things  came 
on't ;  for  Hopeful,  and  some  others,  as  tlie  story  re- 
lates it,  were  converted  by  his  death. 

Hon.  Well,  but  pray  go  on  ;  for  you  are  well  ac- 
quainted with  things. 

Great.  Above  all  that  Christian  met  with  after 
he  had  passed  through  Vanity  Fair,  one  By-ends  was 
the  arch  one. 

Hon.  By-ends  !  what  was  he  } 

Great.  A  very  arch  fellow,  a  downright  hypo- 
crite ;  one  that  would  be  religious,  whichever  way 
the  world  went ;  but  so  cunning,  that  he  would  be 
sure  never  to  lose  or  suffer  for  it.  He  had  his  mode 
of  religion  for  every  fresh  occasion,  and  his  wife  was 
as  good  at  it  as  he.  He  would  turn  from  opinion 
to  opinion  ;  yea,  and  plead  for  so  doing,  too.  But 
so  lar  as  I  could  learn,  he  came  to  an  ill  end  with 
his  by-ends;  nor  did  I  ever  hear. that  any  of  his 
children  were  ever  of  any  esteem  with  any  that  truly 
feared  God. 

Now  by  this  time  they  were  come  within  sight  of 
the  town  of  Vanity,  where  Vanity  Fair  is  kept.  So, 
when  they  saw  that  they  wefe  so  near  the  town,  they 
consulted  with   one  anothei    how  they  should  pass 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  437 

through  the  town;  and  some  said  one  thing.  .\vA 
some  another.  At  last  Mr.  Great-heart  said,  I  have, 
as  you  may  understand,  often  been  a  conductor  of 
pilgrims  through  this  town.  Now,  I  am  acquainted 
with  one  Mr.  Mnason,  a  Cyprusian  by  nation,  an  old 
disciple,  at  whose  house  we  may  lodge.  If  you 
think  good,  said  he,  we  will  turn  in  there. 

Content,  said  old  Honest;  Content,  said  Ch.  is- 
tiana  ;  Content,  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind  ;  and  so  they 
said  all.  Now  you  must  think  that  it  was  eventide 
by  that  they  got  to  the  outside  of  the  town  ;  but  Mr. 
Great-heart  knew  the  way  to  the  old  man's  house. 
So  thither  they  came;  and  he  called  at  the  door, 
and  the  old  man  within  knew  his  tongue  so  soon  as 
ever  he  heard  it;  so  he  opened,  and  they  all  came 
in.  Then  said  Mnason  their  host.  How  far  have  ye 
come  to-day.?  So  they  said,  From  tlie  house  of 
Gains  our  friend.  I  promise  you,  said  he,  you  have 
gone  a  good  stitch.  You  may  well  be  weary ;  sit 
down.     So  they  sat  down. 

Then  said  their  guide.  Come,  what  cheer,  good 
sirs.?     I  dare  say  you  are  welcome  to  my  friend. 

I  also,  said  Mr.  Mnason,  do  bid  you  welcome  ;  and 
whatever  you  want,  do  but  say,  and  we  will  do  what 
we  can  to  get  it  for  you. 

Hon.  Our  great  want  a  while  since  was  harboar 
and  good  company,  and  now  I  hope  we  have  b^th 


43^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Mnas.  For  harbour,  you  see  what  it  is;  but  fol 
good  company,  that  will  appear  in  the  trial. 

Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  will  you  have  the  pil- 
grims up  into  their  lodging? 

I  will,  said  Mr.  Mnason.  So  he  had  them  to 
their  respective  places ;  and  also  showed  them  a 
very  fair  dining-room,  where  they  might  be,  and  sup 
together  until  the  time  was  come  to  go  to  rest. 

Now  when  they  were  seated  in  their  places,  and 
were  a  little  cheery  after  their  journey,  Mr.  Honest 
asked  his  landlord  if  there  were  any  store  of  good 
people  in  the  town. 

Mnas.  We  have  a  few ;  for  indeed  they  are  but  a 
few,  when  compared  with  them  on  the  other  side. 

Hon.  But  how  shall  we  do  to  see  some  of  them  .'* 
for  the  sight  of  good  men  to  them  that  are  going  on 
pilgrimage,  is  like  to  the  appearing  of  the  moon  and 
stars  to  them  that  are  sailing  upon  the  seas. 

Then  Mr.  Mnason  stamped  with  his  foot,  and  his 
daughter  Grace  came  up.  So  he  said  unto  her, 
Grace,  go  you,  tell  my  friends,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr. 
Holy-man,  Mr.  Love-saints,  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and 
Mr.  Penitent,  that  I  have  a  friend  or  two  at  my 
house  that  have  a  mind  this  evenitig  to  see  them. 
So  Grace  went  to  call  them,  and  they  came  ;  and 
after  salutation  made,  they  sat  down  together  at  the 
table. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  439 

Then  said  Mr.  Mnason  their  kxndlord,  My  neigh- 
bours, I  have,  as  you  see,  a  company  of  strangers 
come  to  my  house  ;  they  are  pilgrims :  they  come 
from  afar,  and  are  going  to  Mount  Zion.  But  who, 
quoth  he,  do  you  think  this  is?  pointing  his  finger 
to  Christiana.  It  is  Christiana  the  wife  of  Chris- 
tian, the  famous  pilgrim,  who  with  Faithful  his 
brother  was  so  shamefully  handled  in  our  town.  At 
that  they  stood  amazed,  saying.  We  little  thought  to 
see  Christiana  when  Grace  came  to  call  us  ;  where- 
fore this  is  a  very  comfortable  surprise.  They  then 
asked  her  of  her  welfare,  and  if  these  young  men 
were  her  husband's  sons.  And  when  she  had  told 
them  they  were,  they  said.  The  King  whom  you  love 
and  serve  make  you  as  your  father,  and  bring  you 
where  he  is  in  peace. 

Then  Mr.  Honest  (when  they  were  all  sat  down) 
asked  Mr.  Contrite  and  the  rest,  in  what  posture 
their  town  was  at  present. 

CoxTR.  You  may  be  sure  we  are  full  of  hurry  in 
fair-time.  'Tis  hard  keeping  our  hearts  and  spirits 
in  good  order  when  we  are  in  a  cumbered  condition. 
He  that  lives  in  such  a  place  as  this  is,  and  that  has 
to  do  with  such  as  we  have,  has  need  of  an  item  to 
caution  him  to  take  heed  every  moment  of  the  day. 

Hon.  But  how  are  your  neighbours  now  for 
quietness? 


44°  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

CoNTR.  They  are  much  more  moderate  now  than 
formerly.  You  know  how  Christian  and  Faithful 
were  used  at  our  town  ;  but  of  late,  I  say,  they  have 
been  far  more  moderate.  I  think  the  blood  of 
Faithful  lieth  with  a  load  upon  them  till  now  ;  for 
since  they  burned  him,  they  have  been  ashamed  to 
burn  any  more.  In  those  days  we  were  afraid  to 
Vvalk  the  streets  ;  but  now  we  can  show  our  heads. 
Then  the  name  of  a  professor  was  odious  ;  now,  es- 
pecially in  some  parts  of  our  town  (for  you  know 
our  town  is  large),  religion  is  counted  honourable. 
Then  said  Air.  Contrite  to  them,  Pray,  how  fared  it 
with  you  in  your  pilgrimage.?  how  stands  the  country 
affected  towards  you  } 

Hon.  It  happens  to  us,  as  it  happeneth  to  way- 
fiuing  men  ; — sometimes  our  way  is  clean,  some- 
times foul ;  sometimes  up-hill,  sometimes  down-hill  ; 
we  are  seldom  at  a  certainty.  The  wind  is  not  al- 
ways on  our  backs,  nor  is  every  one  a  friend  that  we 
meet  with  in  the  way.  We  have  met  with  some 
notable  rubs  already,  and  what  are  3'et  behind  we 
know  not ;  but  for  the  most  part  we  find  it  true  that  liaa 
been  talked  ot  old,  A  good  man  must  suffer  trouble. 

CoNTH.  You  talk  of  rubs  ;  what  rubs  have  you 
met  withal  ? 

Hon.  Nay,  ask  Mr.  Great-heart  our  guide  ;  for  he 
can  give  the  best  account  of  that. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  44 1 

Great.  We  have  been  beset  three  our  foui  times 
ah-eady.  First,  Christiana  and  her  children  were 
beset  by  two  ruffians,  that  they  feared  would  have 
taken  away  their  lives.  W^e  were  beset  by  Giant 
Bloody-man,  Giant  Maul,  and  Giant  Slay-good. 
Indeed,  we  did  rather  beset  the  last  than  were  beset 
of  him.  And  thus  it  was:  after  we  had  been  some 
time  at  tlie  house  of  Gains  mine  host,  and  of  the 
whole  churcli.  we  were  minded  upon  a  time  to  take 
our  weapons  with  us,  and  go  see  if  we  could  light 
upon  any  of  those  that  are  enemies  to  pilgrims  ;  for 
we  heard  that  there  was  a  notable  one  thereabouts. 
Now  Gains  knew  his  haunt  better  than  I,  because  he 
dwelt  thereabout.  So  we  looked  and  looked,  till  at 
last  we  discerned  the  mouth  of  his  cave:  then  we 
were  glad,  and  plucked  up  our  spirits.  vSo  we  ap- 
proached up  to  his  den  ;  and,  lo,  when  we  came 
there,  he  had  dragged,  by  mere  force,  into  his  net, 
th.is  poor  man,  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  and  was  about  to 
bring  him  to  his  end.  But  when  he  saw  us,  sup- 
posing, as  we  thought,  he  had  another  prey,  he  left 
the  poor  man  in  his  hole,  and  came  out.  So  we  fell 
to  it  full  sore,  and  he  lustily  laid  about  him  ;  but,  in 
conclusion,  he  was  brought  down  to  the  grountl,  and 
his  head  cut  ofV,  and  set  up  by  the  waysitle,  for  a 
terror  to  such  as  should  after  practice  such  ungodli- 
ness.    That  I  tell  30U   the   truth,  here   is  the   inan 


442  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

himse-f  to  affirm  it,  who  was  as  a  lamb  taken  out 
of  the  mouth  of  the  lion. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  I  found  this  true,  to 
my  cost  and  comfort :  to  my  cost,  when  he  threat- 
ened to  pick  my  bones  every  moment ;  and  to  my 
comfort,  when  I  saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  friends, 
with  their  weapons,  approach  so  near  for  my  deliv- 
erance. 

Then  said  Mr.  Holy-man,  There  are  two  things 
that  they  have  need  to  be  possessed  with  who  go  on 
pilgrimage;  courage,  and  an  unspotted  life.  If  they 
have  not  courage,  they  can  never  hold  on  their  way ; 
and  if  their  lives  be  loose,  they  will  make  the  very 
name  of  a  pilgrim  stink. 

Then  said  Mr.  Love-saints,  I  hope  this  caution  is 
not  needful  among  you.  But  truly  there  are  many 
that  go  upon  the  road,  that  rather  declare  themselves 
strangers  to  pilgrimage,  than  strangers  and  pilgrims 
on  the  earth. 

Then  said  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  'Tis  true.  They 
neither  have  the  pilgrim's  weed,  nor  the  pilgrim's 
courage  ;  they  go  not  uprightly,  but  all  awry  with 
their  feet ;  one  shoe  goes  inward,  another  outward  ; 
and  t/.ieir  hosen  out  behind  ;  here  a  rag,  and  there  a 
rent,  to  the  disparagement  of  their  Lord. 

These  things,  said  Mr.  Penitent,  they  ought  to  be 
troubled  for ;  nor  are  the   pilgrims  like  to  have  that 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  443 

grace  put  upon  them  and  their  Pilgrim's  Progress  as 
they  desire,  imtil  the  way  is  cleared  of  such  spots 
and  blemishes.  Thus  they  sat  talking  and  spending 
the  time  until  supper  was  set  upon  the  table,  unto 
which  they  went,  and  refreshed  their  weary  bodies : 
so  they  went  to  rest. 

Now  they  stayed  in  the  fair  a  great  while  at 
the  house  of  this  !Mr.  Mnason,  who  in  process  of 
time  gave  his  daughter  Grace  unto  Samuel,  Chris- 
tiana's son,  to  wife,  and  his  daughter  Martha  to 
Joseph. 

The  time,  as  I  said,  that  they  lay  here,  was  long, 
for  it  was  not  now  as  in  former  times.  Wherefore 
the  pilgrims  grew  acquainted  with  many  of  the  good 
people  of  the  town,  and  did  them  what  service  they 
could.  Mercy,  as  she  was  wont,  laboured  much  for 
the  poor  :  wherefore  their  bellies  and  backs  blessed 
her,  and  she  was  there  an  ornament  to  her  profession. 
And,  to  say  the  truth  for  Grace,  Phebe,  and  Martha, 
they  were  all  of  a  very  good  nature,  and  did  much 
good  in  their  places.  They  were  also  all  of  them 
very  fruitful ;  so  that  Christian's  name,  as  was  said 
before,  was  like  to  live  in  the  world. 

While  thc)-  lay  here,  there  came  a  monster  out  of 
the  woods,  and  slew  many  of  the  people  of  the  town. 
It  would  also  carry  away  their  children,  and  teach 
Uicm  to  suck  its  whelps.     Now,  no  man  in  the  town 


444  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

durst  so  much  as  face  this  monstei' ;  but  all  fled 
when  they  heard  the  noise  of  his  coming. 

The  monster  was  like  unto  no  one  beast  on  the 
earth.  Its  body  was  like  a  dragon,  and  it  had  seven 
heads  and  ten  horns. ^  It  made  great  havoc  of  chil- 
dren, and  yet  it  was  governed  by  a  woman.  This 
monster  propounded  conditions  to  men  ;  and  such 
men  as  loved  their  lives  more  than  their  souls,  ac- 
cepted of  those  conditions.     So  they  came  under. 

Now  Mr.  Great-heart,  together  with  those  who 
came  to  visit  the  pilgrims  at  Mr.  Mnason's  house, 
entered  into  a  covenant  to  go  and  engage  this  beast, 
if  perhaps  they  might  deliver  the  people  of  this 
town  from  the  paws  and  mouth  of  this  so  devouring 
a  serpent. 

Then  did  Mr.  Great-heart,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr. 
Holy-man,  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and  Mr.  Penitent,  with 
their  weapons,  go  forth  to  meet  him.  Now  the 
monster  at  first  was  very  rampant,  and  looked  upon 
these  enemies  with  great  disdain  ;  but  they  so  bela- 
boured him,  being  sturdy  men  at  arms,  that  they 
made  him  make  a  retreat:  so  they  came  home  to 
Mr.  Mnason's  house  again. 

The  monster,  you  must  know,  had  his  certain 
seasons  to  come  out  in,  and  to  make  his  attempts 
upon  the  children  of  the  people  of  the  town.  At 
'  Rev.  xvii.  3. 


THE  PILGRIM-S  PROGRESS.  445 

these  seasons  did  these  valiant  worthies  watch  him 
and  did  still  continually  assault  him  ;  insomuch  that 
in  process  of  time  he  became  not  only  wounded  but 
lame.  Also  he  has  not  made  that  havoc  of  the 
townsmen's  children  as  formerly  he  had  done  ;  and 
it  is  verily  believed  by  some,  that  this  beast  will  die 
of  his  wounds. 

This  therefore  made  Mr.  Great-heart  and  Iris  fel- 
lows of  great  fame  in  this  town  ;  so  that  many  of 
the  people  that  wanted  their  taste  of  things,  yet  had 
a  reverent  esteem  and  respect  for  them.  Upon  this 
account  therefore  it  was,  that  these  pilgrims  got  not 
much  hurt  here.  True,  there  were  some  of  the 
baser  sort,  that  could  see  no  more  than  a  mole,  nor 
understand  any  more  than  a  beast ;  these  had  no 
reverence  for  these  men,  nor  took  they  notice  of  their 
valour  and  adventures. 

Well,  the  time  grew  on  that  the  pilgrims  must  go 
on  their  way  ;  wherefore  they  prepared  for  their 
journey.  They  sent  for  their  friends ;  they  con- 
ferred with  them  ;  they  had  some  time  set  apart 
therein  to  commit  each  other  to  the  protection  of 
their  Prince.  There  were  again  that  brought  them 
of  such  things  as  they  had,  tliat  were  fit  for  the  weak 
and  the  strong,  for  the  women  a'/d  the  men,  and  so 
laded  them  with  such  things  as  were  necessary.* 
1  Acts  xxviii.  10. 


44^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Then  they  set  forward  on  their  way ;  and  theii 
friends  accompanying  them  so  far  as  was  convenient, 
they  again  committed  each  other  to  the  protection 
of  their  King,  and  parted. 

They  therefore  that  were  of  the  pilgrims'  com- 
pany went  on,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before 
them.  Now,  the  women  and  children  being  weakly, 
they  were  forced  to  go  as  they  could  bear ;  by  this 
means  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  and  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had 
more  to  sympathize  with  their  condition. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  townsmen,  and 
when  their  friends  had  bid  them  farewell,  they 
quickly  came  to  the  place  where  Faithful  was  put 
to  death.  Therefore  they  made  a  stand,  and  thanked 
Him  that  had  enabled  him  to  bear  his  cross  so  well ; 
and  the  rather,  because  they  now  found  that  they 
had  a  benefit  by  such  a  manly  suffering  as  his  was. 

They  went  on  therefore  after  this  a  good  way  fur- 
ther, talking  of  Christian  and  Faithful,  and  how 
Hopeful  joined  himself  to  Christian  after  that  Faith- 
ful was  dead. 

Now  they  were  come  up  with  the  hill  Lucre, 
where  the  silver  mine  was  which  took  Demas  off 
from  his  pilgrimage,  and  into  which,  as  some  think, 
By-ends  fell  and  perished  ;  wherefore  they  consid- 
ered that.  But  when  they  were  come  to  the  old 
monument  that  stood  over  against  the  hill  Lucre,  to 


THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS.  447 

wit,  to  the  pillar  of  salt,  that  stood  also  within  view 
of  Sodom  and  its  stinking  lake,  they  marvelled,  as 
did  Christian  before,  that  men  of  that  knowledge 
and  rijjeness  of  wit  as  they  were  should  be  so  blinded 
as  to  turn  aside  here.  Only  they  considered  again, 
that  nature  is  not  affected  with  the  harms  that  others 
have  met  with,  especially  if  that  thing  upon  which 
they  look  has  an  attracting  virtue  upon  the  foolish 
eye. 

I  saw  now  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the 
river  that  was  on  this  side  of  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains; — to  the  river  where  the  fine  trees  grow  on 
both  sides,  and  whose  leaves,  if  taken  inwardly,  are 
good  against  surfeits:  where  the  meadows  are  green 
all  the  year  long ;  and  where  they  might  lie  down 
safely.^ 

By  this  river  side,  in  the  meadows,  there  were 
cotes  and  folds  for  sheep,  a  house  built  for  the  nour- 
ishing and  bringing  up  of  those  lambs,  the  babes  of 
those  women  that  go  on  pilgrimage.  Also  there 
was  here  one  that  was  entrusted  with  them,  who 
could  have  compassion  ;  and  that  could  gather  these 
lambs  with  his  arm,  and  carry  them  in  his  bosom, 
and  that  could  gently  lead  those  that  were  with 
young.'  Now,  to  the  care  of  this  man  Christiana 
admonished  her  four  daughters  to  commit  their  little 
^  Ps.  xxiiL  *  Heb.  v.  2  ;  Isa.  xl.  11. 


44^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ones,  that  by  these  waters  they  might  be  housed,  har 
boured,  succoured,  and  nourished,  and  that  none  of 
them  might  be  laclving  in  time  to  come.  This  man, 
if  any  of  them  go  astray,  or  be  lost,  will  bring  them 
again  ;  he  will  also  bind  up  that  which  was  broken, 
and  will  strengthen  them  tliat  are  sick.^  Here  they 
will  never  want  meat,  drink,  and  clothing ;  here 
they  will  be  kept  from  thieves  and  robbers  ;  for  this 
man  will  die  before  one  of  those  committed  to  his 
trust  shall  be  lost.  Besides,  here  they  shall  be  sure 
to  have  good  nurture  and  admonition,  and  shall  be 
taught  to  walk  in  right  paths,  and  that  you  know  is 
a  favour  of  no  small  account.  Also  here,  as  you 
see,  are  delicate  waters,  pleasant  meadows,  dainty 
flowers,  variety  of  trees,  and  such  as  bear  wholesome 
fruit ; — fruit,  not  like  that  which  Matthew  ate  of,  that 
fell  over  the  wall  out  of  Beelzebub's  garden  ;  but 
fruit  that  procureth  health  where  there  is  none,  and 
that  continueth  and  increaseth  it  where  it  is.  So 
they  were  content  to  commit  their  little  ones  to  him  ; 
and  that  which  was  also  an  encouragement  to  them 
so  to  do,  was  for  that  all  this  was  to  be  at  the  charge 
of  the  King,  and  so  was  an  hospital  to  young  chil- 
dren and  orphans. 

Now  they  went  on.     And  when  they  were  come 
to  By-path   meadow,  to  the  stile  over  which  Chris- 
1  Jer.  xxiii.  4;  Ezek.  xxxiv.  11-16. 


^^Ai'Mm'...'^jf^ 


Til.-    Kiv.jr  ..f  ihi-  Water  of  I,ife. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  449 

tian  went  with  his  fellow  Hopeful,  when  they  were 
taken  by  Giant  Despj.ir,  and  put  into  Doubting 
Castle,  they  sat  down,  and  consulted  what  was  best 
to  be  done  :  to  wit,  now  they  were  so  strong,  and 
had  got  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Great-heart  for  their  con- 
ductor, whether  they  had  not  best  to  make  an  at- 
tempt upon  the  giant,  demolish  his  castle,  and  if 
there  were  any  pilgrims  in  it,  to  set  them  at  liberty, 
before  they  went  any  further.  So  one  said  one 
thing,  and  another  said  the  contrary.  One  ques- 
tioned if  it  was  lawful  to  go  upon  unconsecratcu 
ground  ;  another  said  they  might,  provided  their  end 
was  good  ;  but  Mr.  Great-heart  said.  Though  that 
assertion  ofl'ered  last  cannot  be  universally  true,  yet 
I  have  a  commandment  to  resist  sin,  to  overcome 
evil,  to  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith  :  and  I  pray, 
with  whom  should  I  fight  this  good  fight,  if  not  with 
Giant  Despair.''  I  will  therefore  attempt  the  taking 
away  of  his  life,  and  the  demolishing  of  Doubting 
Castle.  Then  said  he.  Who  will  go  with  me?  Then 
said  old  Hcjnest,  I  will.  And  so  will  we  too,  saiil 
Christiana's  four  sons,  Matthew,  Samuel,  Joseph, 
and  James  ;  for  they  were  young  men  and  strong.' 
So  they  left  tlie  women  in  the  road,  and  with  them 
ISIr.  Feeble-mind,  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  with  his 
crutches,  to  be  their  guard,  until   they  came   back  ; 

1  I  John  ii.  13,  14. 
29 


45°  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

for  in  that  place  the  Giant  Despair  dwelt  so  near, 
they  keeping  in  the  road,  a  little  child  might  lead 
them.^ 

So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the  four 
young  men,  went  to  go  up  to  Doubting  Castle,  to 
look  for  Giant  Despair.  When  they  came  at  the 
castle  gate,  they  knocked  for  entrance  with  an  un- 
usual noise.  At  that  the  old  giant  comes  to  the 
gate,  and  Diffidence  his  wife  follows.  Then  said  he, 
Who  and  what  is  he  that  is  so  hardy,  as  after  this 
manner  to  molest  the  Giant  Despair?  Mr.  Great- 
heart  replied.  It  is  I,  Great-heart,  one  of  the  King 
of  the  Celestial  Country's  conductors  of  pilgrims  to 
their  place  ;  and  I  demand  of  thee  that  thou  open 
thy  gates  for  my  entrance :  prepare  thyself  also  to 
fight,  for  I  am  come  to  take  away  thy  head,  and  to 
demolish  Doubting  Castle. 

Now  Giant  Despair,  because  he  was  a  giant, 
thought  no  man  could  overcome  him  :  and  again 
thought  he,  Since  heretofore  I  have  made  a  conquest 
of  angels,  shall  Great-heart  make  me  afraid?  So 
he  harnessed  himself,  and  went  out.  He  had  a  cap 
of  steel  upon  his  head,  a  breastplate  of  fire  girded 
to  him,  and  he  came  out  in  iron  shoes,  with  a  great 
club  in  his  hand.  Then  these  six  men  made  up  to 
him,  and  beset  him  behind  and  before  :  also  when 
1  Isa.  xi.  6. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  45 1 

Dillulciice  the  giantess  came  up  to  help  .  iin,  old 
Mr.  Honest  cut  her  down  at  one  blow.  Then  they 
fought  for  their  lives,  and  Giant  Despair  was  brought 
down  to  the  ground,  but  was  very  loth  to  die.  He 
struggled  hard,  and  had,  as  they  say,  as  many  lives 
as  a  cat ;  but  Great-heart  was  his  death,  for  he  left  him 
not  till  he  had  severed  his  head  from  his  shoulders. 

Then  they  fell  to  demolishing  Doubting  Castle, 
and  that  you  know  might  with  ease  be  done,  since 
Giant  Despair  was  dead.  They  were  seven  daj's  in 
destroying  of  that ;  and  in  it  of  pilgrims  they  found 
one  Mr.  Despondency,  almost  starved  to  death,  and 
one  Much-afraid,  his  daughter:  these  two  they  saved 
alive.  But  it  would  have  made  you  a-wondered  to 
have  seen  the  dead  bodies  that  lay  here  and  there  in 
the  castle-yard,  and  how  full  of  dead  men's  bones 
the  dungeon  was. 

When  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  companions  had  per 
formed  this  exploit,  the}'  took  Mr.  Despondency,  and 
his  daughter  Much-afraid,  into  their  protection  ;  for 
they  were  honest  people,  though  they  were  prisoners 
in  Doubting  Castle  to  that  tyrant  Giant  Despair. 
They,  therefore,  I  say,  took  with  them  the  head  of 
the  giant  (for  his  body  they  had  buried  under  a  heap 
of  stones),  and  down  to  the  road  and  to  their  com- 
panions they  came,  and  showed  them  what  they  had 
done.     Now,  when  Feeble-mind   and   Ready-to-halt 


4:5*  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

saw  hat  it  was  the  head  of  Giant  Despair  indeed, 
the}  were  very  jocund  and  merry.  Now,  Chris- 
tiantw.if  need  was,  could  play  upon  the  viol,  and 
her  o  lughter  Mercy  upon  the  lute  :  so  since  they 
were  %o  merry  disposed,  she  played  them  a  lesson, 
and  Rsadj'-to-halt  would  dance.  So  he  took  Des- 
pondency's daughter.  Much-afraid,  by  the  hand,  and 
to  danjing  they  went  in  the  road.  True,  he  could 
not  dance  without  one  crutch  in  his  hand,  but  I 
promise  you  he  footed  it  well :  also  the  girl  was  to 
be  commended,  for  she  answered  the  music  hand- 
somely. 

As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was  not  so 
much  to  him  ;  he  was  for  feeding,  rather  than  dan- 
cing, for  that  he  was  almost  starved.  So  Christiana 
gave  him  some  of  her  bottle  of  spirits  for  present 
relief,  and  then  prepared  him  something  to  eat ;  and 
in  a  little  time  the  old  gentleman  came  to  himself, 
and  began  to  be  finely  revived. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  when  all  these  things 
were  finished,  Mr.  Great-heart  took  the  head  of 
Giant  Despair,  and  set  it  upon  a  pole  by  the  high- 
way-side, right  over  against  the  pillar  that  Christian 
erected  for  a  caution  to  pilgrims  that  came  after,  to 
take  heed  of  entering  into  his  grounds. 

Then  he  wrote  under  it  upon  a  marble  stone  these 
rerses  following : — 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  453 

This  is  the  head  of  him,  whose  name  only 

In  former  times  did  pilgrims  terrify. 

His  castle's  down,  and  Diffidence  his  wife 

Brave  Mr.  Great-heart  has  bereft  of  life. 

Despondency,  his  daughter  Much-afraid, 

Great-heart  for  them  also  the  man  has  played. 

Who  hereof  doubts,  if  he'll  but  cast  his  eye 

Up  hither  may  his  scruples  satisfy. 

This  head  also,  when  doubting  cripples  dance, 

Doth  show  from  fears  they  have  deliverance. 

When  these  men  had  bravely  showed  themselves 
against  Doubting  Castle,  and  had  slain  Giant  De- 
spair, they  went  forward,  and  went  on  till  they  came 
to  the  Delectable  Mountains,  where  Christian  and 
Hopeful  refreshed  themselves  with  the  varieties  of 
the  place.  They  also  acquainted  themselves  with 
the  Shepherds  there,  who  welcomed  them,  as  they 
had  done  Christian  before,  unto  the  Delectable 
Mountains. 

Now  the  Shepherds  seeing  so  great  a  train  follow 
!Mr.  Great-heart  (for  with  him  they  were  all  well  ac- 
quainted), they  said  unto  him.  Good  sir,  you  have 
got  a  goodly  company  here  ;  pray  where  did  you 
find  all  these .'' 

Then  Mr.  Great-heart  replied  : — 

First,  here  is  Christiana  and  her  train, 

Her  sons,  and  her  so^  's  wives,  who  like  the  wain, 


45'1  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Keep  by  the  pole,  and  do  by  compass  steer 
From  sin  to  grace,  else  they  had  not  been  here. 
Next  here's  old  Honest  come  on  pilgrimage, 
Readv-to-halt  too,  who  I  dare  engage 
True  hearted  is,  and  so  is  Feeble-mind, 
Who  willing  was  not  to  be  left  behind. 
Despondency,  good  man,  is  coming  after. 
And  so  also  is  Much-afraid  his  daughter. 
May  we  have  entertainment  here,  or  must 
We  further  go  ?     Let's  know  whereon  to  trust. 

Then  said  the  Shepherds,  This  is  a  comfortable 
L  >inpany.  You  are  welcome  to  us ;  for  we  have  for 
t'  E  feeble  as  well  as  for  the  strong.  Our  Prince  has 
an  eye  to  what  is  done  to  the  least  of  these  ;^  there- 
fore infirmity  must  not  be  a  block  to  our  entertain- 
ment. So  they  had  them  to  the  palace  door,  and 
then  said  unto  them,  Come  in,  Mr.  Feeble-mind, 
come  in,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  come  in,  Mr,  Despond- 
ency, and  Mrs.  Much-afraid  his  daughter.  These, 
Mr.  Great-heart,  said  the  Shepherds  to  the  guide, 
we  call  in  by  name,  for  that  they  are  most  subject  to 
draw  back  ;  but  as  for  you,  and  the  rest  that  are 
strong,  we  leave  you  to  your  wonted  liberty.  Then 
said  Mr.  Great-heart,  This  day  I  see  that  grace  doth 
shine  in  your  faces,  and  that  you  are  my  Lord's 
Shepherds  indeed  ;  for  that  you  have  not  pushed 
these  diseased  neither  with  side  no:  slioulder,  but 
-  Matt.  XXV.  40. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  455 

have  rather  strewed  their  way  into  the  pahice  with 
flowers,  as  you  should.' 

So  the  feeble  and  weak  went  in,  and  Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  the  rest  did  follow.  When  they  were  also 
set  down,  the  Shepherds  said  to  those  of  the  weaker 
sort,  What  is  it  that  you  would  have.''  for,  said  they, 
all  things  must  be  managed  here  to  the  supporting 
of  tlie  weak,  as  well  as  to  the  warning  of  the  unruly. 
So  they  made  them  a  feast  of  things  easy  of  diges- 
tion, and  that  were  pleasant  to  the  palate,  and  nou- 
rishing ;  the  which  when  they  had  received,  they 
went  to  their  rest,  each  one  respectively  unto  his 
proper  place. 

When  morning  was  come,  because  the  mountains 
were  high  and  the  day  clear,  and  because  it  was  the 
custom  of  the  Shcplierds  to  show  the  pilgrims  be- 
fore their  departure  some  rarities,  therefore  after 
they  were  ready,  and  had  refreshed  themselves,  the 
Shepherds  took  them  out  into  the  fields,  and  showed 
them  first  what  they  had  shown  to  Christian  before. 

Then  they  had  them  to  some  new  places.  The 
first  was  Mount  Marvel,  where  they  looked,  and  be- 
hold a  man  at  a  distance,  that  tumbled  the  hills 
about  with  words.  Then  tliey  asked  the  Shepherds 
what  that  should  mean.  So  they  told  them,  that 
that  man  was  the  son  of  one  Mr.  Great-grace,  of 
'  Ezek.  xxxiv.  21. 


4,50  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

whom  you  read  in  the  first  part  of  the  records  of  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress ;  and  he  is  set  there  to  teach  pil- 
grims how  to  believe  down,  or  to  tumble  out  of  their 
ways,  what  difficulties  they  should  meet  with,  by 
faith.'  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  know  him,  he 
is  a  man  above  many. 

Then  they  had  them  to  another  place,  called 
Mount  Innocence.  And  there  they  saw  a  maa 
clothed  all  in  white  ;  and  two  men.  Prejudice  and 
Ill-will,  continually  casting  dirt  upon  him.  Now,  be- 
hold, the  dirt,  whatsoever  they  cast  at  him,  would  in 
a  little  time  fall  off  again,  and  his  garment  would 
look  as  clear  as  if  no  dirt  had  been  cast  thereat. 
Then  said  the  pilgrims,  What  means  this?  The 
Shepherds  answered.  This  man  is  named  Godly- 
man,  and  this  garment  is  to  show  the  innocency  of 
his  life.  Now,  those  that  throw  dirt  at  him,  are 
such  as  hate  his  well-doing ;  but,  as  you  see  the  dirt 
will  not  stick  upon  his  clothes,  so  it  shall  be  with 
him  that  liveth  innocently  in  the  world.  Whoever 
they  be  that  would  make  such  men  dirty,  they  labour 
all  in  vain  ;  for  God,  by  that  a  little  time  is  spent, 
will  cause  that  their  innocence  shall  break  forth  as 
the  light,  and  their  righteousness  as  the  noonday. 

Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to  Mount 
Charity,  ^here  they  showed  them  a  man  that  had  a 
1  Mark  xi.  23,  24. 


THE  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS.  457 

bLiiuUc  of  cloth  lying  before  him,  out  of  which  he 
cut  coats  and  garments  for  the  poor  that  stood  about 
liim  ;  yet  his  bundle  or  roll  of  cloth  was  never  the 
less.  Then  said  they,  What  should  tliisbe?  This 
is,  said  the  Shepherds,  to  show  you,  that  he  who 
has  a  heart  to  give  of  his  labour  to  the  poor,  shall 
never  want  wherewithal.  He  that  watereth  shall  be 
watered  himself.  And  the  cake  that  the  widow 
gave  to  the  prophet,  did  not  cause  that  she  had  the 
less  in  her  barrel. 

They  had  them  also  to  the  place  where  they  saw 
one  Fool  and  one  Want-wit,  washing  an  Ethiopian, 
with  intention  to  make  him  white  ;  but  the  more 
they  washed  him,  the  blacker  he  was.  Then  they 
asked  the  Shepherds  what  they  should  mean.  So 
they  told  them,  saying,  Thus  it  is  with  the  vile  per- 
son ;  all  means  used  to  get  such  a  one  a  good  name, 
shall  in  conclusion  tend  but  to  make  him  more 
abominable.  Thus  it  was  with  the  Pharisees ;  and 
so  it  shall  be  with  all  hvpocrites. 

Then  said  Mercy,  the  wife  of  Matthew,  to  Chris- 
tiana her  mother,  Mother,  I  would,  if  it  might  be, 
see  the  hole  in  the  hill,  or  that  commonly  called  the 
JJy-way  to  hell.  So  her  mother  brake  her  mint!  to 
the  Shepherds.  Then  they  went  to  the  door ;  it 
was  on  the  side  of  an  hill ;  and  they  opened  it,  and 
bid  Mercy  hearken  a  while.     So  she  hearkened,  and 


45 S  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

heard  one  saying,  Cursed  be  my  father  for  holding 
of  my  feet  back  from  the  way  of  peace  and  life. 
Another  said,  Oh,  that  I  had  been  torn  in  pieces 
before  I  had,  to  save  my  life,  lost  my  soul !  And 
another  said,  If  I  wer^  to  live  again,  how  would  I 
deny  myself,  rather  than  come  to  this  place  !  Then 
there  was  as  if  the  very  earth  had  groaned  and 
quaked  under  the  feet  of  this  young  woman  for  fear  ; 
so  she  looked  white,  and  came  trembling  away,  say- 
ing. Blessed  be  he  and  she  that  is  delivered  from 
this  place  ! 

Now  when  the  Shepherds  had  shown  them  all 
these  things,  then  they  had  them  back  to  the  palace, 
and  entertained  them  with  what  the  house  would  af- 
ford. But  Mercy,  being  a  young  and  breeding 
woman,  longed  for  something  that  she  saw  there, 
but  was  ashamed  to  ask.  Her  mother-in-law  then 
asked  her  what  she  ailed,  for  she  looked  as  one  not 
well.  Then  said  Mercy,  There  is  a  looking-glass 
hangs  up  in  the  dining-room,  off  which  I  cannot 
take  my  mind :  if,  therefore,  I  have  it  not,  I  think  I 
shall  miscarry.  Then  said  her  mother,  I  will  men- 
tion thy  wants  to  the  Shepherds,  and  they  will  not 
deny  it  thee.  But  she  said,  I  am  ashamed  that  these 
men  should  know  that  I  longed.  Nay,  my  daughter, 
said  she,  it  is  no  shame,  but  a  virtue,  to  long  for 
6ucl:  a  thing  as  that.     S'o  Mercy  said,  Then,  mother, 


THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS.  459 

if  you  please,  ask  the  Shepherds  if  they  are  willhig 
to  sell  it. 

Now,  the  glass  was  one  of  a  thousand.  It  would 
present  a  man,  one  way,  with  his  own  features  ex- 
actly ;  and,  turn  it  but  another  way,  and  it  would 
show  one  the  very  face  and  similitude  of  the  Prince 
of  pilgrims  himself.  Yes,  I  have  talked  with  them 
that  can  tell,  and  they  have  said  that  they  have  seen 
the  very  crown  of  thorns  upon  his  head,  by  looking 
in  that  glass  ;  they  have  therein  also  seen  the  holes 
in  his  hands,  his  feet,  and  his  side.  Yea,  such  an 
excellency  is  there  in  this  glass,  that  it  will  show 
him  to  one  where  they  have  a  mind  to  see  him, 
whether  living  or  dead ;  whether  in  earth  or  in 
heaven  ;  whether  in  a  state  of  humiliation,  or  in  his 
exaltation  ;  whether  coming  to  suffer,  or  coming  to 
reign.' 

Christiana  therefore  went  to  the  Shepherds  apart 
(now  the  names  of  the  Shepherds  were  Knowledge, 
Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere),  and  said  unto 
them.  There  is  one  of  my  daughters,  a  breeding 
woman,  that  I  think  doth  long  for  something  that 
she  hath  seen  in  this  house  ;  and  she  thinks  that  she 
shall  miscarry  if  she  should  by  you  be  denied. 

Experience.  Call  her,  call  her,  she  shall  assu- 
redly havp  what  we  can  help  her  to.  So  they  called 
'  James  i   23-25;  i  Cor.  xiii.  12;  2  Cor.  iii.  i8. 


460  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS, 

her,  and  said  to  her,  Mercy,  what  is  that  thing  thou 
wouldst  have?  Then  she  blushed,  and  said.  The 
great  glass  that  hangs  up  in  the  dining-room.  So, 
Sincere  ran  and  fetched  it,  and  with  a  joyful  consent 
it  was  given  her.  Then  she  bowed  her  head,  and 
gave  thanks,  and  said,  By  this  I  know  that  I  have 
obtained  favour  in  your  eyes. 

They  also  gave  to  the  other  young  women  such 
things  as  they  desired,  and  to  their  husbands  great 
commendations,  for  that  they  had  joined  with  Mr. 
Great-heart  in  the  slaying  of  Giant  Despair,  and  the 
demolishing  of  Doubting  Castle. 

About  Christiana's  neck  the  Shepherds  put  a 
bracelet,  and  so  did  they  about  the  necks  of  her  four 
daughters  ;  also  they  put  ear-rings  in  their  ears,  and 
jewels  on  their  foreheads. 

When  they  were  minded  to  go  hence,  they  let 
them  go  in  peace,  but  gave  not  to  them  those  certain 
cautions  which  before  were  given  to  Christian  and 
his  companion.  The  reason  was,  for  that  these  had 
Great-heart  to  be  their  guide,  who  was  one  that  was 
well  acquainted  with  things,  and  so  could  give  them 
their  cautions  more  seasonably,  to  wit,  even  when 
the  danger  was  nigh  the  approaching.  What  cau- 
tions Christian  and  his  companion  had  received  of 
the  Shepherds,  they  had  also  lost  by  that  the  time 
was  come  that  the^  had  need  to  put  them   in  prac- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  46 1 

tice.     Wherefore,  here  was  the   advantage   that  this 
company  had  over  the  other. 

From  thence  they  went  on  singing,  and  they  said, 

Behold  how  fitly  are  the  stages  set 

For  their  relief  that  pilgrims  are  become, 

And  how  they  us  receive  without  one  let, 

That  make  the  other  life  our  mark  and  home. 

What  novelties  they  have  to  us  they  give, 
That  %ve,  though  pilgrims,  joyful  lives  may  live. 
They  do  upon  us,  too,  such  things  bestow. 
That  show  we  pilgrims  are  where'er  we  go. 

When  they  w^cre  gone  from  the  Shepherds,  they 
quickly  came  to  the  place  where  Christian  met  with 
one  Turn-away,  that  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Apostasy. 
Wherefore  of  him  !Mr.  Great-heart  their  guide  did 
now  put  them  in  mind,  saying,  This  is  the  place 
where  Christian  met  with  one  Turn-away,  who  car- 
ried with  him  the  character  of  his  rebellion  at  his 
back.  And  this  I  have  to  say  concerning  this  man  : 
— he  would  hearken  to  no  counsel,  but  once  a  falling, 
persuasion  could  not  stop  him.  When  he  came  to 
the  place  where  the  cross  and  sepulchre  were,  he 
did  meet  with  one  that  bid  him  look  there  ;  but  he 
gnashed  with  his  teeth,  and  stamped,  and  said  he 
was  resolved  to  go  back  to  his  own  town.  Before 
he  came  to  the  gate,  he  met  with  Evangelist,  who 


4^3  THE  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

offered  to  lay  hands  on  him,  to  turn  him  into  (  le 
way  again.  But  this  Turn-away  resisted  him,  and 
having  done  much  despite  unto  him,  he  got  away 
over  the  vv^all,  and  so  escaped  his  hand. 

Then  they  went  on  ;  and  just  at  the  place  where 
Little-faith  formerly  was  robbed,  there  stood  a  man 
with  his  sword  drawn,  and  his  face  all  over  witli 
blood.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Who  art  thou  ? 
The  man  made  answer,  saying,  I  am  one  whose 
name  is  Valiant-for-truth.  I  am  a  pilgrim  and  am 
going  to  the  Celestial  City.  Now,  as  I  was  in  my 
way,  there  were  three  men  did  beset  me,  and  pro- 
pounded unto  me  these  three  things:  i.  Whether  I 
would  become  one  of  them.  3.  Or  go  back  from 
whence  I  came.  3.  Or  die  upon  the  place. ^  To  the 
first  I  answered,  I  had  been  a  true  man  for  a  long 
season,  and  therefore  it  could  not  be  expected  tliat  I 
should  now  cast  in  my  lot  with  thieves.  Then  they 
demanded  what  I  would  say  to  the  second.  So  I 
told  them,  the  place  from  whence  I  came,  had  I  not 
found  incommodity  there,  I  had  not  forsaken  it  at 
all ;  but  finding  it  altogether  unsuitable  to  me,  and 
very  unprofitable  for  me,  I  forsook  it  for  this  way. 
Then  they  asked  me  what  I  said  to  the  third.  And 
I  told  them,  my  life  cost  far  moi'e  dear  than  that  I 
should  lightly  give  it  away.  Besides,  you  have 
1  Prov.  i.  10-19. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  463 

nothing  to  do  thus  to  put  things  to  my  choice ; 
wherefore  at  your  peril  be  it  if  you  meddle.  Then 
these  three,  to  wit,  Wild-head,  Inconsiderate,  and 
Pragmatic,  drew  upon  me,  and  I  also  drew  upon 
them.  So  we  fell  to  it,  one  against  tliree,  for  the 
space  of  above  three  hours.  They  have  left  upon 
me,  as  you  see,  some  of  the  marks  of  their  valour, 
and  have  also  carried  away  with  them  some  of  mine. 
They  are  but  just  now  gone  :  I  suppose  they  miglit, 
as  the  saying  is,  hear  your  horse  dash,  and  so  they 
betook  themselves  to  flight. 

Great.  But  here  was  great  odds,  three  against 
one. 

Valiant.  'Tis  true  ;  but  little  or  more  or  nothing 
to  him  that  has  the  truth  on  his  side  :  "  Though  an 
host  should  encamp  against  me,"  said  one,  "  my 
heart  shall  not  fear :  though  war  should  rise  against 
me,  in  this  will  I  be  confident,"  etc.  Besides,  said 
he,  I  have  read  in  some  records,  that  one  man  has 
fought  an  army :  and  how  many  did  Samson  slay 
with  the  jawbone  of  an  ass! 

Then  said  the  guide.  Why  did  you  not  cry  out, 
that  some  might  have  come  in  for  your  succour.? 

Valiant.  So  I  did,  to  my  King,  who  I  knew 
could  hear  me,  and  atlbrd  invisible  help,  and  that 
was  sufKcient  for  me. 

Then    said    Great-heart    to    Mr.  Valiant-for-truth, 


464  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Thou  hast  worthily  behaved  thyself;  let  me  see  thy 
sword.     So  he  showed  it  him. 

When  he  had  taken  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked 
thereon  a  while,  he  said,  Ha  !  it  is  a  right  Jerusalem 
blade. 

Valiant.  It  is  so.  Let  a  man  have  one  of  these 
blades,  with  a  hand  to  wield  it  and  skill  to  use  it, 
and  he  may  venture  upon  an  angel  with  it.  He 
need  not  fear  its  holding,  if  he  can  but  tell  how  to 
lay  on.  Its  edge  will  never  blunt.  It  will  cut  flesh 
and  bones,  and  soul  and  spirit,  and  all. 

Great.  But  you  fought  a  great  while ;  I  wonder 
you  were  not  weary. 

Valiant.  I  fought  till  my  sword  did  cleave  to 
my  hand  ;  and  then  they  were  joined  together  as 
if  a  sword  grew  out  of  my  arm,  and  when  the  blood 
ran  through  my  fingers,  then  I  fought  witii  most 
courage. 

Great.  Thou  hast  done  well ;  thou  hast  resisted 
unto  blood,  striving  against  sin.  Thou  slialt  abide 
by  us,  come  in  and  go  out  with  us  ;  for  we  are  thy 
companions.  Then  they  took  him,  and  washed  his 
wounds,  and  gave  him  of  what  they  had,  to  refresh 
him  :  and  so  they  went  on  together. 

Now,  as  they  went  on,  because  Mr.  Great-heart 
was  delighted  in  him  (for  he  loved  one  greatly  that 
he.  found  to  be  a  man  of  his  hands),  and  because 


THE  PILGRIM- S  PROGRESS.  465 

there  were  in  company  they  that  were  feeble  and 
weak,  therefore  he  questioned  with  him  about  many 
things ;  as,  first,  what  countryman  he  was. 

Valiant.  I  am  of  Dark-hmd  ;  for  tlicre  was  I 
born,  and  there  my  father  and  mother  are  still. 

Dark-land,  said  the  guide  ;  doth  not  that  lie  on  the 
same  coast  with  the  city  of  Destruction  .^ 

Valiant.  Yes,  it  doth.  Now  that  which  caused 
me  to  come  on  pilgrimage  was  this:  We  had  one 
Mr.  Tell-true  "came  into  our  parts,  and  he  told  it 
about  what  Christian  had  done,  that  went  from  the 
city  of  Destruction  ;  namely,  how  he  had  forsaken 
his  wife  and  children,  and  had  betaken  himself  to  a 
pilgrim's  life.  It  was  also  confidently  reported,  how 
he  had  killed  a  serpent  that  did  come  out  to  resist 
him  in  his  journey  ;  and  how  he  got  through  to 
whither  he  intended.  It  was  also  told  what  wel- 
come he  had  at  all  his  Lord's  lodgings,  especially 
when  he  came  to  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City  ;  for 
there,  said  the  man,  he  was  received  with  sound  of 
trumpet  by  a  company  of  sliining  ones.  He  told 
also  how  all  the  bells  in  the  city  did  ring  for  joy  at 
his  reception,  and  what  golden  garments  he  was 
clothed  with  ;  with  many  other  things  that  now  I 
shall  forbear  to  relate.  In  a  word,  that  man  so  told 
the  story  of  Christian  and   his  travels  that  my  heart 

fell   into  a  burning  haste  to  be  gone  after  him  ;  nor 
30 


466  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

could  father  or  mother  stay  me.  So  I  got  from 
them,  and  am  come  thus  far  on  my  way. 

Great.  You  came  in  at  the  gate,  did  you  not? 

Valiant.  Yes,  yes  ;  for  the  same  man  also  told 
us,  that  all  would  be  nothing,  if  we  did  not  begin  to 
enter  this  way  at  the  gate. 

Look  you,  said  the  guide  to  Christiana,  the  pil- 
grimage of  your  husband,  and  wdiat  he  has  gotten 
thereby,  is  spread  abroad  far  and  near. 

Valiant.  Why,  is  this  Christian's  wife? 

Great.  Yes,  that  it  is ;  and  these  also  are  his 
four  sons. 

Valiant.  What,  and  going  on  pilgrimage  too? 

Great.  Yes,  verily,  they  are  following  after. 

Valiant.  It  glads  me  at  the  heart.  Good  man, 
how  joyful  will  he  be  when  he  shall  see  them  that 
would  not  go  with  him,  yet  to  enter  after  him  in  at 
the  gates  into  the  Celestial  City  ! 

Great.  Without  doubt  it  will  be  a  comfort  to 
him  ;  for,  next  to  the  joy  of  seeing  himself  there,  it 
will  be  a  joy  to  meet  there  his  wife  and  children. 

Valiant.  But  now  you  are  uj^on  that,  pray  let 
me  see  your  opinion  about  it.  Some  make  a  ques- 
tion whether  we  shall  know  one  another  when  we 
are  there. 

Great.  Do  you  think  they  shall  know  themselves 
then,  or  that  the)  shall  rejoice  to   see  themselves  in 


THE   PII  Gh'fM'S  PROGRESS.  467 

that  l)liss?  and  if  tl  cy  think  they  shall  know  and  do 
this,  why  not  know  others,  and  rejoice  in  their  wel- 
fare also?  Again,  since  relations  are  our  second 
self",  though  that  state  will  be  dissolved  tliere,  yet 
whv  may  it  not  be  rationally  concluded,  that  we 
shall  be  more  glad  to  see  them  there,  than  to  see 
they  are  wanting? 

Valiant.  Well,  I  perceive  whereabouts  you  are 
as  to  this.  Have  you  any  more  things  to  ask  me 
about  my  beginning  to  come  on  pilgrimage? 

Great.  Yes  ;  were  your  father  and  mother  will- 
ing that  you  should  become  a  pilgrim? 

Valiant.  Oh,  no  !  they  used  all  means  imagin- 
able to  persuade  me  to  stay  at  home. 

Great.  Why,  what  could  they  say  against  it? 

Valiant.  They  said  it  was  an  idle  life  ;  and  if  I 
myself  were  not  inclined  to  sloth  and  laziness,  I 
would  never  countenance  a  pilgrim's  condition. 

Great.  And  what  did  they  say  else? 

Valiant.  Why,  they  told  me  that  it  was  a  dan- 
gerous way  ;  yea,  the  most  dangerous  way  in  the 
world,  say  they,  is  that  which  the  pilgrims  go. 

Great.  Did  they  show  you  wherein  this  way  is 
so  dangerous? 

Valiant.  Yes ;  and  that  in  many  particulars. 

Great.  Name  some  of  them. 

Valiant.  The}   told  me  of  the  Slough  of  Des- 


4^8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

pond,  where  Christian  was  weUnigh  smothered. 
They  told  me,  that  there  were  archers  standing 
ready  in  Beelzebub  Castle,  to  shoot  them  who  should 
knock  at  the  Wicket-gate  for  entrance.  They  told 
me  also  of  the  wood  and  dark  mountains  ;  of  the  hill 
Difficulty ;  of  the  lions ;  and  also  of  the  tiu'ee 
giants.  Bloody-man,  Maul,  and  Slay-good.  They 
said  moreover,  that  there  was  a  foul  fiend  haunted 
the  Valley  of  Humiliation  ;  and  that  Christian  was 
by  him  almost  bereft  of  life.  Besides,  said  they,  you 
must  go  over  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
where  the  hobgoblins  are,  where  the  light  is  dark- 
ness, where  the  way  is  full  of  snares,  pits,  traps,  and 
gins.  They  told  me  also  of  Giant  Despair,  of 
Doubting  Castle,  and  of  the  ruin  that  the  pilgrims 
met  with  there.  Further,  they  said  I  must  go  over 
the  Enchanted  Ground,  which  was  dangerous  ;  and 
that  after  all  this,  I  should  find  a  river,  over  which 
there  was  no  bridge  ;  and  that  that  river  did  lie  be- 
twixt me  and  th.e  Celestial  Country. 

Great.  And  was  this  all  ? 

Valiant.  No.  They  also  told  me  that  this  way 
was  full  of  deceivers,  and  of  persons  that  lay  in 
wait  there  to  turn  good  men  out  of  the  path. 

Great.  But  how  did  they  make  that  out.'' 

Valiant.  They  told  me,  that  Mr.  Worldly-wise- 
man   did   lie   there    'n  wait  to  deceive.     They  said 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  469 

also,  tliat  there  were  Formality  and  HypocXiSy  con- 
tinually on  the  road.  They  said  also,  that  By-ends, 
Talkative,  or  Demas,  would  go  near  to  gather  me 
up  ;  that  the  Flatterer  would  catcli  me  in  his  net ;  or 
that,  with  green-headed  Ignorance,  I  would  presume 
to  go  on  to  the  gate,  from  whence  he  was  sent  back 
to  the  hole  that  was  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  and  made 
to  go  the  by-way  to  hell. 

Great.  I  promise  you,  this  was  enough  to  dis- 
courage you  ;  but  did  they  make  an  end  there  ? 

Valiant.  No,  stay.  They  told  me  also  of  many 
that  had  tried  that  way  of  old,  and  that  had  gone  a 
great  way  therein,  to  see  if  they  could  find  some- 
thing of  the  glory  there  that  so  many  had  so  much 
talked  of  from  time  to  time,  and  how  they  came 
back  again,  and  befooled  themselves  for  setting  a 
foot  out  of  doors  in  that  path,  to  the  satisfaction  of 
all  the  country.  And  they  named  several  that  did 
so,  as  Obstinate  and  Pliable,  Mistrust  and  Timorous, 
Turn-away  and  old  Atheist,  with  several  more ; 
who,  they  said,  had  some  of  them  gone  far  to  see 
what  they  could  find,  but  not  one  of  them  had  found 
so  much  advantage  by  going  as  amounted  to  the 
weight  of  a  feather. 

Great.  Said  they  anything  more  to  discourage 
you .'' 

Valiant.  Yes.     They  told  me  of  one  Mr.  Fear- 


47°  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ing,  who  was  a  pilgrim,  and  how  he  found  his  way 
so  soh'tary,  that  he  never  had  a  comfortable  hour 
therein  ;  also  that  Mr.  Despondency  had  like  to  have 
been  starved  therein  :  yea,  and  also  (which  I  had  al- 
most forgot)  that  Christian  himself,  about  whom 
there  has  been  such  a  noise,  after  all  his  ventures  for 
a  celestial  crown,  was  certainly  drowned  in  the 
Black  River,  and  never  went  a  foot  further ;  how- 
ever it  was  smothered  up. 

Great.  And  did  none  of  these  things  discourage 
you? 

Valiant.  No  ;  they  seemed  but  as  so  many  noth- 
ings to  me. 

Great.  How  came  that  about.'* 

Valiant.  Why,  I  still  believed  what  Mr.  Tell- 
truth  had  said  ;  and  that  carried  me  beyond  them 
all. 

Great.  Then  this  was  your  victory,  even  your 
faith. 

Valiant.  It  was  so.  I  believed,  and  therefore 
came  out,  got  into  the  way,  fought  all  that  set  them- 
selves against  me,  and,  by  believing,  am  come  to 
ihis  place. 

Who  would  true  valour  see, 

Let  him  come  hither; 
One  here  will  constant  be, 

Come  wind,  come  weather ; 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  47 • 

There's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent 
His  first  avowed  intent 

To  be  a  pilgrim. 

Whoso  beset  him  round 

With  dismal  stories, 
Do  but  themselves  confound  ; 

His  strength  the  more  is. 
No  lion  can  him  fright, 
He'll  with  a  giant  fight, 
But  he  will  have  a  right 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin  nor  foul  fiend 

Can  daunt  his  spirit  ; 
He  knows  he  at  the  end 

Shall  life  inherit 
Then  fancies  fly  away, 
He'll  not  fear  what  men  say ; 
He'll  labour  night  and  day 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

By  this  time  they  were  got  to  the  Enchanted 
Ground,  where  the  air  naturally  tended  to  make  one 
drowsy. 

And  that  place  was  all  grown  over  with  briers  and 
thorns,  excepting  here  and  there,  where  was  an  en- 
chanted arbour,  upon  which  if  a  man  sits,  or  in 
which  if  a  man  sleeps,  it  is  a  question,  some  say, 
whether  ever  he   shall  rise  or  wake  again  in  this 


-^72  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

world.  Over  this  forest  therefore  they  went,  both 
one  and  another,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before, 
for  that  he  was  the  guide ;  and  Mr.  Vahant-for- 
trutli  came  behind,  being  rear-guard,  for  fear  lest 
peradventure  some  fiend,  or  dragon,  or  giant,  or 
thief,  should  fiill  upon  their  rear,  and  so  do  mischief. 
They  went  on  here,  each  man  with  his  sword  drawn 
in  his  hand ;  for  they  knew  it  was  a  dangerous 
place.  Also  they  cheered  up  one  another  as  well  as 
they  could.  Feeble-mind,  Mr.  Great-heart  com- 
manded, should  come  up  after  him  ;  and  Mr.  Des- 
pondency was  under  tlie  eye  of  Mr.  Valiant. 

Now  they  had  not  gone  far,  but  a  great  mist  and 
darkness  fell  upon  them  all ;  so  that  they  could 
scarce,  for  a  great  while,  see  the  one  the  other. 
Wherefore  they  were  forced,  for  some  time,  to  feel 
one  for  another  by  words  ;  for  they  walked  not  by 
sight.  But  any  one  must  think,  that  here  was  but 
sorry  going  for  the  best  of  them  all  ;  but  how  much 
worse  for  the  women  and  children,  who  both  of  feet 
and  heart  were  but  tender !  Yet  so  it  was,  that 
through  the  encouraging  words  of  him  that  led  in 
the  front,  and  of  him  that  brought  them  up  behind, 
they  made  a  pretty  good  shift  to  wag  along. 

The  way  also  here  was  very  wearisome,  through 
dirt  and  slabbiness.  Nor  was  there,  on  all  this 
ground,   so    much    as    one    inn    or  victualing-house 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  473 

whereir  to  refresh  the  feebler  sort.  Here,  therefore, 
was  grunting,  and  puffing,  and  sighing,  while  one 
tumbleth  over  a  bush,  another  sticks  fast  in  the  dirt, 
and  the  children,  some  of  them,  lost  tlieir  shoes  in 
the  mire; — while  one  cries  out,  I  am  down;  and 
another.  Ho,  where  are  you?  and  a  third,  The 
bushes  have  got  such  fast  hold  on  me,  I  think  I  can- 
not get  away  from  them. 

Then  they  came  at  an  arbour,  warm,  and  promis- 
ing much  refreshing  to  the  pilgrims  ;  for  it  was  finely 
wrought  above-head,  beautified  with  greens,  fur- 
nished with  benches  and  settles.  It  also  had  in  it  a 
soft  couch,  whereori  the  weary  might  lean.  This, 
you  must  think,  all  things  considered,  was  tempting  ; 
for  the  pilgrims  already  began  to  be  foiled  with  the 
badness  of  the  way  :  but  there  was  not  one  of  them 
tliat  made  so  much  as  a  motion  to  stop  there.  Yea, 
for  aught  I  could  perceive,  they  continually  gave  so 
good  heed  to  the  advice  of  their  guide,  and  he  did 
so  faithfully  tell  tiiem  of  dangers,  and  of  the  nature 
of  dangers  when  they  were  at  them,  that  usually 
when  they  were  nearest  to  them,  they  did  most 
pluck  up  their  spirits,  and  hearten  one  another  to 
deny  the  flesh.  Tliis  arbour  was  called  The  Sloth- 
ful's  Friend,  on  purpose  to  allure,  if  it  might  be, 
some  of  the  pilgrims  there  to  take  up  their  rest  when 
weary. 


474  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  in  this 
their  solitary  ground,  till  they  came  to  a  place  at 
which  a  man  is  apt  to  lose  his  way.  Now,  though 
when  it  was  light  their  guide  could  well  enough  tell 
how  to  miss  those  ways  that  led  wrong,  yet  in  the 
dark  he  was  put  to  a  stand.  But  he  had  in  his 
pocket  a  map  of  all  ways  leading  to  or  from  the  Ce- 
lestial City ;  wherefore  he  struck  a  light  (for  he 
never  goes  without  his  tinder-box  also),  and  takes  a 
view  of  his  book  or  map,  which  bids  him  to  be  care- 
ful in  that  place  to  turn  to  the  right  hand.  And, 
had  he  not  been  careful  here  to  look  in  his  map,  they 
had  all,  in  probability,  been  smothered  in  the  mud, 
for  just  a  little  before  them,  and  that  at  the  end  of 
the  cleanest  way  too,  was  a  pit,  none  knows  how 
deep,  full  of  nothing  but  mud,  there  made  on  pur- 
pose to  destroy  the  pilgrims  in. 

Then  thought  I  with  myself.  Who  that  goeth  on 
pilgrimage  but  would  have  one  of  these  maps  about 
him,  that  he  may  look  when  he  is  at  a  stand  which 
is  the  way  he  must  take.'' 

Then  they  went  on  in  this  Enchanted  Ground,  till 
they  came  to  where  there  was  another  arbour,  and 
it  was  built  by  the  highway-side.  And  in  that 
ai'bour  there  lay  two  men,  whose  names  were  Heed- 
less and  Too-bold.  These  two  went  thus  far  on  pil- 
grimage ;  but  he'c,  being  wearied  with  their  journey, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  475 

sat  down  to  rest  themselves,  and  so  fell  fast  asleep. 
When  the  pilgrims  saw  them,  they  stood  still,  and 
shook  their  heads,  for  they  knew  that  the  sleepers 
were  in  a  pitiful  case.  Then  they  consulted  what  to 
do,  whether  to  go  on  and  leave  them  in  their  sleep, 
or  to  step  to  them  and  try  to  awake  them.  So  they 
concluded  to  go  to  them  and  try  to  awake  them  ;  that 
is,  if  they  could  ;  but  with  this  caution,  namely,  to 
take  heed  that  they  themselves  did  not  sit  down,  nor 
embrace  the  offered  benefit  of  that  arbour. 

So  they  went  in,  and  spake  to  the  men,  and  called 
each  by  his  name,  for  the  guide  it  seems  did  know 
them  ;  but  there  was  no  voice  nor  answer.  Then 
the  guide  did  shake  them,  and  do  what  he  could  to 
disturb  them.  Then  said  one  of  them,  I  will  pay 
you  when  I  take  my  money.  At  which  the  guide 
shook  his  head.  I  will  fight  so  long  as  I  can  hold 
my  sword  in  my  hand,  said  the  other.  At  that,  one 
of  the  children  laughed. 

Then  said  Christiana,  What  is  the  meanino-  of 
this?  The  guide  said.  They  talk  in  their  sleep.  If 
you  strike  them,  beat  them,  or  whatever  else  you  do  to 
them,  they  will  answer  you  after  this  fashion  ;  or,  as 
one  of  them  said  in  old  time,  when  the  waves  of  the 
sea  did  beat  upon  him,  and  he  slept  as  one  upon  the 
mast  of  a  ship.  When  I  awake,  I  will  seek  it  again.^ 
1  Prov.  xxiii.  34,  35, 


47^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

You  know,  when  men  talk  in  their  sleep,  they  say 
anything,  but  their  words  are  not  governed  either  by 
faith  or  reason.  There  is  an  incoherency  in  their 
words  now,  as  there  was  before  betwixt  their  going 
on  pilgrimage  and  sitting  down  here.  This,  then, 
is  the  mischief  of  it;  when  heedless  ones  go  on  pil- 
grimage, 'tis  twenty  to  one  but  they  are  served  thus  ; 
for  this  Enchanted  Ground  is  one  of  the  last  refuges 
that  the  enemy  to  pilgrims  has ;  wherefore  it  is,  as 
you  see,  placed  almost  at  the  end  of  the  way,  and  so 
it  f.tandeth  against  us  with  the  more  advantage.  For 
when,  thinks  the  enemy,  will  these  fools  be  so  desir- 
ous to  sit  down  as  when  they  are  weary.?  and  when 
so  like  to  be  weary  as  when  almost  at  their  journey's 
end  ?  Therefore  it  is,  I  say,  that  the  Enchanted 
Ground  is  placed  so  nigh  to  the  land  Beulah,  and  so 
near  the  end  of  their  race.  Wherefore  let  pilgrims 
look  to  themselves,  lest  it  happen  to  them  as  it  has 
done  to  these  that,  as  you  see,  are  fallen  asleep,  and 
none  can  awake  them. 

Then  the  pilgrims  desired  with  trembling  to  go 
forward  ;  only  they  prayed  their  guide  to  strike  a 
light,  that  they  might  go  the  rest  of  their  way  by  the 
help  of  the  light  of  a  lantern.  So  he  struck  a  light, 
and  they  went  by  the  help  of  that  through  the  rest 
of  this  w  ly,  t  lough  the  darkness  was  very  great.* 
1  2  Pet.  i.  19. 


THE  PlLGRnrS  PROGRESS.  ^^"J 

But  the  children  began  to  be  sorely  weary,  and  they 
cried  out  unto  Him  that  loveth  pilgrims  to  make 
their  way  more  comfortable.  So  by  tliat  they  liad 
gone  a  little  farther,  a  wind  arose,  that  drove  away 
the  fog ;  so  the  air  became  more  clear.  Yet  they 
were  not  off'  (by  much)  of  the  Enchanted  Ground  ; 
onl}-  now  they  could  see  one  another  better,  and  the 
way  wherein  they  should  walk. 

Now  when  they  were  almost  at  the  end  of  this 
ground,  they  perceived  that  a  little  before  them  was 
a  solemn  noise,  as  of  one  that  was  much  concerned. 
So  they  went  on,  and  looked  before  them  :  and  be- 
hold they  saw,  as  they  thought,  a  man  upon  his 
knees,  with  hands  and  eyes  lifted  up,  and  speaking, 
as  they  thought,  earnestly  to  one  that  was  above. 
They  drew  nigh,  but  could  not  tell  wliat  he  said  :  so 
they  went  softly  till  he  had  done.  When  he  had 
done,  he  got  up,  and  began  to  run  towards  the  Ce- 
lestial City.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  called  after  him, 
saying,  Soho,  friend  !  let  us  have  your  company,  if 
you  go,  as  I  suppose  you  do,  to  the  Celestial  City. 
So  the  man  stojDped,  and  they  came  u-p  to  him.  But 
as  soon  as  Mr.  Honest  saw  him,  he  said,  I  know  this 
man.  Then  said  Mr.  Valiant-fcM--truth,  Pr'ythee, 
who  is  it?  It  is  one,  said  he,  that  comes  from  where- 
about I  dwelt.  His  name  is  Standfast ;  he  is  cer 
tainly  a  right  good  pilgrim. 


47^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So  they  came  up  one  to  another.  And  presently 
Standfast  said  to  old  Honest,  Ho,  father  Honest,  are 
you  there?  Ay,  said  he,  that  I  am,  as  sure  as  you 
are  there.  Right  glad  am  I,  said  Mr.  Standfast,  that 
I  have  found  you  on  this  road.  And  as  glad  am  I 
said  the  other,  that  I  espied  you  on  your  knees. 
Then  Mr.  Standfast  blushed,  and  said.  But  why, 
did  you  see  me.''  Yes,  that  I  did,  quoth  the  other, 
and  with  my  heart  was  glad  at  the  sight.  Why 
what  did  you  think.''  said  Standfast.  Think!  sai- . 
old  Honest;  what  should  I  think.?  I  thought  we 
had  an  honest  man  upon  the  road,  and  therefore 
should  have  his  company  by  and  by.  If  you 
thought  not  amiss,  said  Standfast,  how  haj^py  am  I ! 
But  if  I  be  not  as  I  should,  'tis  I  alone  must  bear  it. 
That  is  true,  said  the  other ;  but  your  fear  doth  fur- 
ther confirm  me  that  things  are  right  betwixt  the 
Prince  of  pilgrims  and  your  soul.  For  he  saith, 
"  Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth  always." 

Valiant.  Well  but,  brother,  I  pray  thee  tell  us 
what  was  it  that  was  the  cause  of  thy  being  upon 
thy  knees  even  now.''  was  it  for  that  some  special 
mercy  laid  obligations  upon  thee,  or  how .'' 

Stand.  Why,  we  are,  as  you  see,  upon  the  En- 
chanted Ground  ;  and  as  I  was  coming  along,  I  was 
musing  with  myself  of  what  a  dangerous  nature  the 
road   in   this   place   was,  and   how   many  that  had 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  4^9 

come  even  thus  far  on  pilgrimage  had  here  been 
stopped  and  been  destroyed.  I  thought  also  of  the 
manner  of  the  death  with  which  this  place  destroyeth 
men.  Those  that  die  here,  die  of  no  violent  dis- 
temper :  the  death  which  such  die  is  not  grievous  to 
them.  For  he  that  goeth  away  in  a  sleep,  begins 
that  journey  with  desire  and  pleasure.  Yea,  such 
acquiesce  in  the  will  of  that  disease. 

Then  Mr.  Honest  interrupting  him,  said,  Did  you 
see  the  two  men  asleep  in  the  arbour.'' 

Stand.  Ay,  ay,  I  saw  Heedless  and  Too-bold 
there,  and  for  aught  I  know,  there  they  will  lie  till  they 
rot.'  But  let  me  go  on  with  my  tale.  As  I  was 
thus  musing,  as  I  said,  there  was  one  in  very  pleas- 
ant attire,  but  old,  who  presented  herself  to  me,  and 
offered  me  three  things,  to  wit,  her  body,  her  purse, 
and  her  bed.  Now,  the  truth  is,  I  was  both  weary 
and  sleepy  :  I  am  also  as  poor  as  an  owlet,  and  that 
perhaps  the  witch  knew.  Well,  I  repulsed  her  once 
and  again,  but  she  put  by  my  repulses,  and  smiled. 
Then  I  began  to  be  angry,  but  she  mattered  that 
nothing  at  all.  Then  she  made  offers  again,  and 
said  if  I  would  be  ruled  by  her,  she  would  make  me 
great  and  happy ;  for,  said  she,  I  am  the  mistress  of 
the  world,  and  men  are  made  happy  by  me.     Then 

asked  her  name,  and  she  told  me  it  was  Madam 
*  Prov.  X.  7. 


4S0  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Bubble.  This  set  me  further  from  her ;  but  she  still 
followed  me  with  enticements.  Then  I  betook  me, 
as  you  saw,  to  my  knees,  and  with  hands  lifted  up, 
and  cries,  I  prayed  to  Him  that  had  said  he  would 
help.  So  just  as  you  came  up,  the  gentlewoman 
went  her  way.  Then  I  continued  to  give  thanks  for 
this  my  great  deliverance  ;  for  I  verily  believe  she 
intended  no  good,  but  rather  sought  to  make  stop 
of  me  in  my  journey. 

Hon.  Without  doubt  her  designs  were  bad.  But, 
stay,  now  you  talk  of  her,  methinks  I  either  have 
seen  her,  or  have  read  some  story  of  her. 

Stand.  Perhaps  you  have  done  both. 

Hon.  Madam  Bubble  !  Is  she  not  a  tall,  comely 
dame,  something  of  a  swarthy  complexion.'' 

Stand.  Right,  you  hit  it ;  she  is  just  such  a 
one. 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  speak  very  smoothly,  and  give 
you  a  smile  at  the  end  of  a  sentence.? 
•    vStand.  You  fall  right  upon  it  again,  for  these  are 
her  very  actions. 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  wear  a  great  purse  by  her 
side,  and  is  not  her  hand  often  in  it,  fingering  her 
money,  as  if  that  was  her  heart's  delight .'' 

Stand.  'Tis  just  so  ;  had  she  stood  by  all  this 
while,  you  could  not  more  amply  have  set  her  forth 
before  me,  nor  have  better  described  her  features. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  481 

Hon.  Then  he  that  drew  her  picture  was  a  good 
limner,  and  he  that  wrote  of  her  said  true. 

Great.  This  woman  is  a  witch,  and  it  is  by  vir- 
tue of  Iier  sorceries  that  this  ground  is  enchanted. 
Whoever  doth  lay  his  head  down  in  her  lap,  had  as 
good  lay  it  down  on  that  block  over  which  the  axe 
dotli  hang ;  and  whoever  lay  their  eyes  upon  her 
beauty,  are  counted  the  enemies  of  God.'  This  is 
she  that  maintaineth  in  their  splendour  all  those  that 
are  the  enemies  of  pilgrims.  Yea,  this  is  she  that 
hath  bought  ofl'  many  a  man  from  a  pilgrim's  life. 
She  is  a  great  gossipper  ;  she  is  always,  both  she  and 
her  daughters,  at  one  pilgrim's  heels  or  another,  now 
commending,  and  then  preferring  the  excellencies 
of  this  life.  She  is  a  bold  and  impudent  slut :  she 
will  talk  with  any  man.  She  always  laugheth  poor 
pilgrims  to  scorn,  but  highly  commends  tlie  rich. 
If  there  be  one  cunning  to  get  money  in  a  place,  she 
will  speak  well  of  him  from  house  to  iiouse.  She 
loveth  banqueting  and  feasting  mainly  well  ;  she  is 
always  at  one  full  table  or  another.  She  has  given 
it  out  in  some  places  that  she  is  goddess,  and  there- 
fore some  do  worship  her.  She  has  her  time,  and 
open  places  of  cheating;  and  she  will  say  and  avow 
it,  that  none  can  show  a  good  comparable  to  hers. 
She  promiseth  to  dwell  with   children's  children,  if 

'  James  iv.  4 ;   1  John  ii.  14,  15. 
SI 


482  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  will  but  love  her  and  make  much  of  her.  She 
will  cast  out  of  her  purse  gold  like  dust  in  some 
places  and  to  some  persons.  She  loves  to  be  sought 
after,  spoken  well  of,  and  to  lie  in  the  bosoms  of 
men.  She  is  never  weary  of  commending  her  com- 
modities, and  she  loves  them  most  that  think  best  of 
her.  She  will  promise  to  some  crowns  and  king- 
doms, if  they  will  but  take  her  advice  ;  yet  many 
hath  she  brought  to  the  halter,  and  ten  thousand 
times  more  to  hell. 

Oh !  said  Standfast,  what  a  mercy  is  it  that  I 
did  resist  her ;  for  whither  might  she  have  drawn 
me ! 

Great.  Whither !  nay,  none  but  God  knows 
whither.  But  in  general,  to  be  sure,  she  would 
have  drawn  thee  into  many  foolish  and  hurtful  lusts, 
which  drown  men  in  destruction  and  perdition.^ 
'Twas  she  that  set  Absalom  against  his  father,  and 
Jeroboam  against  his  master.  'Twas  she  that  per- 
suaded Judas  to  sell  his  Lord  ;  and  that  prevailed 
with  Demas  to  forsake  the  godly  pilgrim's  life. 
None  can  tell  of  the  mischief  that  she  doth.  She 
makes  variance  betwixt  rulers  and  subjects,  betwixt 
oarents  and  children,  betwixt  neighbour  and  neigh- 
bour, betwixt  a  man  and  his  wife,  betwixt  a  man 
and  himself,  betwixt  the  flesh  and  the  spirit.  Where- 
'  I  Tim.  vi.  9 


m^,,l^;\',K^^'<-^.'^ 


Lau'l  or  fieulali. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  4S3 

fore,  good  Mr.   Standfast,  be  as  your  name   is  ;  and 
when  you  have  done  all,  stand. 

At  this  discourse  there  was  among  the  pilgrims  a 
mixture  of  joy  and  trembling;  but  at  length  they 
broke  out  and  sang  : 

What  danger  is  the  pilgrim  in  ! 

How  many  are  his  foes  ! 
How  many  ways  there  are  to  sin 

No  living  mortal  knows. 

Some  in  the  ditch  are  spoiled,  yea,  can 

Lie  tumbling  in  the  mire  : 
Some,  though  they  shun  the  frying-pan, 

Do  leap  into  the  fire. 

After  this  I  beheld  until  they  were  come  into  the 
land  of  Bculah,  where  the  sun  shineth  night  and 
day.  Here,  because  they  were  weary,  they  betook 
themselves  a  while  to  rest.  And  because  this  country 
was  common  for  pilgrims,  and  because  the  orchards 
and  vineyards  that  were  here  belonged  to  the  King 
of  the  Celestial  Country,  therefore  they  were  licensed 
to  make  bold  with  any  of  his  things.  But  a  little 
while  soon  refreshed  them  here  ;  for  the  bells  did  so 
ring,  and  the  trumpets  continually  sound  so  melodi- 
ously, that  they  could  not  sleep,  and  yet  they  re- 
ceived as  much  refreshing  as  if  they  slept  their  sleep 
never  so  sound'y.     Here  also  all  the  noise  of  them 


4^^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  wa'ked  the  streets  was,  More  pilgrims  are  come 
to  town  !  And  another  would  answer,  saying.  And 
so  many  went  over  the  water,  and  were  let  in  at  the 
golden  gates  to-day!  They  would  cry  again,  There 
is  now  a  legion  of  shining  ones  just  come  to  town, 
by  which  we  know  that  there  are  more  pilgrims 
upon  the  road  ;  for  here  they  come  to  wait  for  them, 
and  to  comfort  them  after  all  their  sorrow.  Then 
the  pilgrims  got  up,  and  walked  to  and  fro.  But 
how  were  their  ears  now  filled  with  heavenly  noises, 
and  their  eyes  delighted  with  celestial  visions  !  In 
this  land  they  heard  nothing,  saw  nothing,  felt  noth- 
ing, smelt  nothing,  tasted  nothing,  that  was  offensive 
to  their  stomach  or  mind  ;  only  when  they  tasted  of 
the  water  of  the  river  over  which  they  were  to  go, 
they  thought  that  it  tasted  a  little  bitterish  to  the 
palate  ;  but  it  proved  sweet  when  it  was  down. 

In  this  place  there  was  a  record  kept  of  the  names 
of  them  that  had  been  pilgrims  of  old,  and  a  history 
of  all  the  famous  acts  that  they  had  done.  It  was 
here  also  much  discoursed,  how  the  river  to  some  had 
had  its  Sowings,  and  what  ebbings  it  has  had  while 
others  have  gone  over.  It  has  been  in  a  manner  dry 
for  some,  while  it  has  overflowed  its  banks  for 
others. 

In  this  place  the  children  of  the  town  would  go 
into  tb  ?  King's  gardens,  and  gather  nosegays  for  the 


THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS.  4S5 

pilgrims,  and  bring  them  to  them  with  much  aflec- 
tion.  Here  also  grew  camphire,  with  spikenard  and 
saftron,  calamus,  and  cinnamon,  with  all  the  trees 
of  tVaiikincensc,  myrrh,  and  aloes,  with  all  cliief 
spices.  With  these  the  pilgrims'  chambers  were 
perfumed  while  they  stayed  here  :  and  with  these 
were  their  bodies  anointed,  to  prepare  them  to 
go  over  the  river  when  the  time  appointed  was 
come. 

Now,  while  they  lay  here,  and  waited  for  the  good 
hour,  there  was  a  noise  in  the  town  that  there  was  a 
post  come  from  the  Celestial  City,  with  matter  of 
great  importance  to  one  Christiana,  the  wife  of 
Christian  the  pilgrim.  So  inquiry  was  made  for 
her,  and  the  house  was  found  out  where  she  was. 
So  the  post  presented  her  with  a  letter.  The  con- 
tents were,  Hail,  good  woman  ;  I  bring  thee  tidings 
that  the  Master  calleth  for  thee,  and  expecteth  that 
thou  shouldst  stand  in  his  presence,  in  clothes  of  im- 
mortality, within  these  ten  days. 

When  he  had  read  this  letter  to  her,  he  gave  her 
therewith  a  sure  token  that  he  was  a  true  messenger, 
and  was  come  to  bid  her  make  haste  to  be  gone. 
The  token  was,  an  arrow  with  a  point  sharpened 
with  love,  let  easily  into  her  heart,  which  by  degrees 
wrought  so  effectually  with  her,  that  at  the  time  aj^ 
pointed  she  must  le  gone. 


486  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

When  Christiana  saw  that  her  time  was  come, 
and  that  she  was  the  first  of  this  company  that  was 
to  go  over,  she  called  for  Mr.  Great-heart  her  guide, 
and  told  him  how  matters  were.  So  he  told  her  he 
was  heartily  glad  ol  the  news,  and  could  have  been 
glad  had  the  post  come  for  him.  Then  she  bid  him 
that  he  should  give  advice  how  all  things  should  be 
prepared  for  her  journey.  So  he  told  her,  saying, 
Thus  and  thus  it  must  be,  and  we  that  survive  will 
accompany  you  to  the  river  side. 

Then  she  called  for  her  children,  and  gave  them 
her  blessing,  and  told  them  that  she  had  read  with 
comfort  the  mark  that  was  set  in  their  foreheads,  and 
was  glad  to  see  them  with  her  there,  and  that  they 
had  kept  their  garments  so  white.  Lastly,  she  be- 
queathed to  the  poor  that  little  she  had,  and  com- 
manded her  sons  and  daughters  to  be  ready  against 
the  messenger  should  come  for  them. 

When  she  had  spoken  these  words  to  her  guide, 
and  to  her  children,  she  called  for  Mr.  Valiant-for- 
truth,  and  said  unto  him,  Sir,  you  have  in  all  places 
showed  yourself  true-hearted  ;  be  faithful  unto  death, 
and  my  King  will  give  you  a  crown  of  life.  1 
would  also  entreat  you  to  have  an  eye  to  my  chil- 
dren ;  and  if  at  any  time  you  see  them  faint,  speak 
comfortably  to  them.  For  my  daughters,  my  sons' 
wives,  they  have  been  faithful,  and  a  fulfilling  of  the 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS.  487 

promise  upon  them  will  be  their  end.      But  si  e  gave 
Mr.  Standfast  a  ring. 

I'hen  she  called  for  old  Mr.  Honest,  and  said  of 
him,  "•  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  no 
guile."  Then  said  he,  I  wish  you  a  fair  day  when 
you  set  out  for  ISIount  Zion,  and  shall  be  glad  to  see 
that  you  go  over  the  river  dryshod.  But  she  an- 
swered, Come  wet,  come  dry,  I  long  to  be  gone  ;  for 
however  the  weather  is  in  my  journey,  I  shall  have 
time  enough  when  I  come  there  to  sit  down  and  rest 
me  and  dry  me. 

Then  came  in  that  good  man  Mr.  Ready-to-halt, 
to  see  her.  So  she  said  to  him.  Thy  travel  hitherto 
has  been  with  difficulty  ;  but  that  will  make  thy  rest 
the  sweeter.  But  watch  and  be  ready  ;  for  at  an 
hour  when  ye  think  not,  the  messenger  may  come. 

After  him  came  Mr.  Despondency  and  his  daughter 
!Much-afraid  ;  to  whom  she  said,  You  ought  with 
thankfulness  for  ever  to  remember  your  deliverance 
from  the  hands  of  Giant  Despair,  and  out  of  Doubt- 
ing Castle.  The  effect  of  that  mercy  is,  that  you  are 
brought  with  safety  hither.  Be  ye  watchful,  and 
cast  away  fear ;  be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end. 

Then  she  said  to  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  Thou  wast  de- 
livered from  the  mouth  of  Giant  Slay-good,  that 
thou  migbtest  live  in  the  light  of  the  living,  and  see 
thy  King  with  comfort.     Only  I  advise  thee  to  re- 


488  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

pent  of  thine  aptness  to  fear  and  doubt  of  his  good- 
ness, before  he  sends  for  thee  ;  lest  thou  shouldst, 
when  he  comes,  be  forced  to  stand  before  him  for 
/hat  fault  with  blushing. 

Now  the  day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must  be 
gone.  So  the  road  was  full  of  people  to  see  her 
take  her  journey.  But,  behold,  all  the  banks  beyond 
the  river  were  full  of  horses  and  chariots,  which 
were  come  down  from  above  to  accompany  her  to 
the  city  gate.  So  she  came  forth,  and  entered  the 
river,  with  a  beckon  of  farewell  to  those  that  followed 
her.  The  last  words  that  she  was  heard  to  say  were, 
I  come.  Lord,  to  be  with  thee  and  bless  tliee  !  So 
her  children  and  friends  returned  to  their  place,  for 
those  that  waited  for  Christiana  had  carried  her  out 
of  their  sight.  So  she  went  and  called,  and  entered 
in  at  the  gate  with  all  the  ceremonies  of  joy  that  her 
husband  Christian  had  entered  with  before  her.  At 
her  departure,  the  children  wept.  But  Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  Mr.  Valiant  played  upon  the  well-tuned 
cymbal  and  harp  for  joy.  So  all  departed  to  their 
respective  places. 

In  process  of  time,  there  came  a  post  to  the  town 
again,  and  his  business  was  with  Mr.  Ready-to-halt. 
So  he  inquired  him  out,  and  said,  I  am  come  from 
Him  whom  thou  hast  loved  and  followed,  though 
upon  crutches  ;  and  my  message  is  to  tell  thee  that 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  4S9 

he  expects  thee  at  his  table  to  sup  with  him  iii  his 
kingdom,  the  next  day  after  Easter;  wherefore  pre- 
pare thyself  for  this  journey.  Then  he  also  gave 
him  a  token  that  he  was  a  true  messenger,  saying, 
"I  have  broken  thy  golden  bowl,  and  loosed  thy 
silver  cord."' 

After  this,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  called  for  his  fellow- 
pilgrims,  and  told  them,  saying,  I  am  sent  for,  and 
God  shall  surely  visit  you  also.  So  he  desired  Mr. 
Valiant  to  make  his  will.  And  because  he  had 
nothing  to  bequeath  to  them  that  should  survive  him 
but  his  crutches  and  his  good  wishes,  tlierefore  thus 
he  said,  These  crutches  I  bequeath  to  my  son  that 
shall  tread  in  my  steps,  with  an  hundred  warm 
wishes  that  he  may  prove  better  than  I  have  been. 
Then  he  thanked  Mr.  Great-heart  for  his  conduct 
and  kindness,  and  so  addressed  himself  to  his  jour- 
ney. When  he  came  to  the  brink  of  the  river  he 
said,  Now  I  shall  have  no  more  need  of  these 
crutches,  since  yonder  are  chariots  and  horses  for 
me  to  ride  on.  The  last  words  he  was  heard  to  say 
were,  Welcome,  life  !     So  he  went  his  way. 

After  this,  Mr.   Feeble-mind   had  tidings  brought 

him  tliat  the   post  sounded   his  horn  at  his  chaml)er- 

door.     Then  he  came  in,  and  told  him,  saying,  I  am 

con  e  to  tell  thee  that  thy  Master  hath  need  of  thee, 

'  Eccles.  xii.  6. 


490  THE  PILGRIM'S  rROGHESS. 

ar.d  that  in  a  very  little  time  thou  must  behold  his 
face  in  brightness.  And  take  this  as  a  token  of  the 
truth  of  my  message :  "  Those  that  look  out  at  the 
windows  shall  be  darkened."  Then  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind  called  for  his  friends,  and  told  them  what  er- 
rand had  been  brought  unto  him,  and  what  token  he 
had  received  of  the  truth  of  the  message.  Then  he 
said,  Since  I  have  nothing  to  bequeath  to  any,  to 
what  purpose  should  I  make  a  will.?  As  for  my 
feeble  mind,  that  I  will  leave  behind  me,  for  that  1 
shall  have  no  need  of  in  the  place  whither  I  go,  nor 
is  it  worth  bestowing  upon  the  poorest  pilgrims : 
wherefore,  when  I  am  gone,  I  desire  that  you,  Mr. 
Valiant,  would  bury  it  in  a  dunghill.  This  done, 
and  the  day  being  come  on  which  he  was  to  depart, 
he  entered  the  river  as  the  rest.  His  last  words 
were.  Hold  out,  faith  and  patience !  So  he  went 
over  to  the  other  side. 

When  days  had  many  of  them  passed  away,  Mr. 
Despondency  was  sent  for ;  for  a  post  was  come, 
and  brought  this  message  to  him  :  Trembling  man  ! 
these  are  to  summon  thee  to  be  ready  with  the  King 
by  the  next  Lord's  day,  to  shout  for  joy  for  thy  deliv- 
erance from  all  thy  doubtings.  And,  said  the  messen- 
ger, that  my  message  is  true,  take  this  for  a  proof:  so 
lie  gave  him  a  grasshopper  to  be  a  burden  unto  him.' 
1  Eccles.  xii.  5. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROkjRESS.  49 1 

Now,  Mr.  Despondency's  daughter,  whose  aame 
was  Much-afraid,  said,  when  she  heard  what  was 
done,  that  she  would  go  with  her  father.  Then  Mr. 
Despondency  said  to  his  friends,  Myself  and  my 
daughter  you  know  what  we  have  been,  and  how 
troublesomely  we  have  behaved  ourselves  in  every 
company.  My  will  and  my  daughter's  is,  that  our 
desponds  and  slavish  fears  be  by  no  man  ever  re- 
ceived, from  the  day  of  our  departure  for  ever ;  for 
I  know  that  after  my  death  they  will  offer  themselves 
to  others.  For  to  be  plain  with  you,  they  are  ghosts 
which  we  entertained  when  we  first  began  to  be  pil- 
grims, and  could  never  shake  them  off  after ;  and 
they  will  walk  about,  and  seek  entertainment  of  the 
pilgrims :  but  for  our  sakes,  shut  the  doors  upon 
them.  When  the  time  was  come  for  them  to  de- 
part, they  went  up  to  the  brink  of  the  river.  The 
last  words  of  Mr.  Despondency  were,  Farewell, 
night;  welcome,  day  !  His  daughter  went  through 
the  river  singing,  but  none  could  understand  what 
she  said. 

Then  it  came  to  pass  a  while  after,  that  there  was 
a  post  in  the  town  that  inquired  for  Mr.  Honest.  So 
he  came  to  the  house  where  he  was,  and  delivered 
to  his  hand  these  lines :  Thou  art  commanded  to  be 
ready  against  this  day  sevennight,  to  present  thyself 
before  thy  Lord,  at  his  Father's  house.     And  for  a 


492  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

token  that  my  message  is  true,  "All  the  daughters 
of  music  shall  be  brouglit  lovv,"^  Tlien  Mr.  Honest 
called  for  his  friends,  and  said  unto  them,  I  die,  but 
shall  make  no  will.  As  for  my  honesty,  it  shall  go 
with  me  ;  let  him  that  comes  after  be  told  of  this. 
When  the  day  that  he  was  to  be  gone  was  come,  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  go  over  the  river.  Now,  the  river 
at  that  time  overflowed  its  banks  in  some  places : 
but  Mr.  Honest  in  his  life-time  had  spoken  to  one 
Good-conscience  to  meet  him  there,  the  which  he 
also  did,  and  lent  him  his  hand,  and  so  helped  him 
over.  The  last  words  of  Mr.  Honest  were,  Grace 
reigns  !     So  he  left  the  world. 

x'lfter  this  it  was  noised  abroad  that  Mr.  Valiant- 
for-truth  was  taken  with  a  summons  by  the  same 
post  as  the  other,  and  had  this  for  a  token  that  the 
summons  was  true,  *•'  That  his  pitcher  was  broken 
at  the  fountain."^  When  he  understood  it,  he  called 
for  his  friends,  and  told  them  of  it.  Then  said  he, 
I  am  going  to  my  Father's ;  and  though  with  great 
difficulty  I  have  got  hither,  yet  now  I  do  not  repent 
me  of  all  the  trouble  I  have  been  at  to  arrive  where 
I  am.  My  sword  I  give  to  him  that  shall  succeed 
me  in  my  pilgrimage,  and  my  courage  and  skill  to 
him  that  can  get  it.  My  marks  and  scars  I  carry 
with  me,  to  be  a  witness  for  me  that  I  have  fought 
1  Eccles.  X  i.  4.  *  Eccles  xii.  6. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  493 

His  battles  who  now  will  be  my  rewarder.  When 
the  day  that  he  must  go  hence  was  come,  many  ac- 
companied him  to  the  river-side,  into  which  as  he 
w^ent  he  said,  "  Death,  where  is  thy  sting?"  And 
as  he  went  down  deeper,  he  said  "  Grave,  where  is 
thy  victory?"  So  he  passed  over,  and  all  the  trum- 
pets sounded  for  him  on  the  other  side. 

Then  there  came  forth  a  summons  for  jNIr.  Stand- 
fast. This  Mr.  Standfast  was  he  that  the  rest  of  the 
pilgrims  found  upon  his  knees  in  the  Enchanted 
Ground.  And  the  post  brought  it  him  open  in  his 
hands  ;  the  contents  thereof  were,  that  he  must  pre- 
pare for  a  change  of  life,  for  his  Master  was  not 
willing  that  he  should  be  so  far  from  him  any  longer. 
At  this  Mr.  Standfiist  was  put  into  a  muse.  Nay, 
said  the  messenger,  you  need  not  doubt  of  the  truth  of 
my  message  ;  for  here  is  a  token  of  the  truth  thereof: 
''  Thy  wheel  is  broken  at  the  cistern."  Then  he 
called  to  him  Mr.  Great-heart,  who  was  their  guide, 
and  said  unto  him,  Sir,  although  it  was  not  my  hap 
to  be  much  in  your  good  company  during  the  days 
of  my  pilgrimage,  yet,  since  the  time  I  knew  you, 
you  have  been  profitable  to  me.  When  I  came 
from  home,  I  left  behind  me  a  wife  and  five  small 
children  ;  let  me  entreat  you  at  your  return  (for  I 
know  that  you  go  and  return  to  your  Master's  house, 
in  hopes  tha*  you  may  yet  be  a  conductor  to  more 


^94  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

of  the  holy  pilgrims),  that  you  send  to  my  fanr  ily, 
and  let  them  be  acquainted  with  all  that  hath  and 
shall  happen  vmto  me.  Tell  them  moreover  of  my 
happy  arrival  at  this  place,  and  of  the  present  and 
late  blessed  condition  I  am  in.  Tell  them  also  of 
Christian  and  Christiana  his  w^ife,  and  how  she  and 
her  children  came  after  her  husband.  Tell  them 
also  of  what  a  happy  end  she  made,  and  whither 
she  is  gone.  I  have  little  or  nothing  to  send  to  my 
family,  unless  it  be  prayers  and  tears  for  them  ;  of 
which  it  will  suffice  that  you  acquaint  them,  if  per- 
adventure  they  may  prevail. 

When  Mr,  Standfast  had  thus  set  things  in  order, 
the  time  being  come  for  him  to  haste  him  away,  he 
also  went  down  to  the  river.  Now  there  was  a 
great  calm  at  that  time  in  the  river  ;  wherefore  Mr. 
Standfast,  when  he  was  about  half-way  in,  stood  a 
while,  and  talked  with  his  companions  that  had 
waited  upon  him  thither.  And  he  said,  This  river 
has  been  a  terror  to  many  ;  yea,  the  thoughts  of  it 
also  have  often  frightened  me  ;  but  now  methinks  I 
stand  easy,  my  foot  is  fixed  upon  that  on  which  the 
feet  of  the  priests  that  bare  the  ark  of  the  covenant 
stood  while  Israel  went  over  Jordan.'  The  waters 
indeed  are  to  the  palate  bitter,  and  to  the  stomach 
cold ;  yet  the  thoughts  of  what  I  am  going  to,  and 

'  Tosh.  iii.  17. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  495 

of  the  conduct  that  waits  for  me  on  the  other  side, 
do  lie  as  a  glowing  coal  at  my  heart.  I  see  myself 
now  at  the  end  of  my  iourney  ;  my  toilsome  days 
are  ended.  I  am  going  to  see  that  head  that  was 
crowned  with  thorns,  and  that  face  that  was  spit 
upon  for  me.  I  have  formerly  lived  by  hearsay  and 
faitli  ;  but  now  I  go  where  I  shall  live  by  sight,  and 
shall  be  with  him  in  whose  company  I  delight  my- 
self. I  have  loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spoken  of;  and 
wherever  I  have  seen  the  print  of  his  shoe  in  the 
earth,  there  I  have  coveted  to  set  my  foot  too.  His 
name  has  been  to  me  as  n  civet-box  ;  yea,  sweeter 
than  all  perfumes.  His  voice  to  me  has  been  most 
sweet ;  and  his  countenance  I  have  more  desired 
than  they  that  have  most  desired  the  light  of  the  sun. 
His  words  I  did  use  to  gather  for  my  food,  and  for 
antidotes  against  my  faintings.  He  hath  held  me, 
and  hath  kept  me  from  mine  iniquities ;  yea,  my 
steps  hath  he  strengthened  in  his  way. 

Now,  while  he  was  thus  in  discourse,  his  counte- 
nance changed ;  his  strong  man  bowed  under  hun  : 
and  after  he  had  said.  Take  me,  for  I  come  unto 
thee,  he  ceased  to  be  seen  of  them. 

But  glorious  it  was  to  see  how  the  open  region 
was  filled  with  horses  and  chariots,  with  trumpeters 
and  pipers,  with  singers  and  players  upon  stringed 
instruments,  to  welcome  the  pilgrims  as  they  went 


49^  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

up,  and  followed  one  another  in  at  the  beautiful  gate 
of  the  city. 

As  for  Christiana's  children,  the  four  boys  that 
Christiana  brought,  with  their  wives  and  children,  I 
did  not  stay  where  I  was  till  they  were  gone  over. 
Also,  since  I  came  away,  I  heard  one  say  that  they 
were  yet  alive,  and  so  would  be  for  the  increase  of 
the  church  in  that  place  where  they  were,  for  a  time. 

Should  it  be  my  lot  to  go  that  way  again,  I  may 
give  those  that  desire  it  an  account  of  what  I  here 
am  silent  about.     Meantime  I  bid  my  reader 

Farewell. 


THE   END. 


#t 


■'"T  ^ 


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